


The Pirate Next Door

by EscapistFiction317704



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Angst, Attempt at Humor, F/M, Fluff, Sexual Tension, Sexy Times, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-03
Updated: 2015-08-11
Packaged: 2018-03-21 00:31:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 70,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3670806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EscapistFiction317704/pseuds/EscapistFiction317704
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A handsome stranger moves into the apartment right next  to Emma Swan's.  Emma isn't ready for romance, but what harm could come of making friends with the charming self-proclaimed "pirate" whose bedroom shares a wall with hers?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Apartment 504

**Author's Note:**

> Author's note: This work is basically complete. Epilogue coming soon.

“Emma – God, just put on some mascara and let's go! I'm starving!” Elsa grumbled, tossing her platinum blonde braid over her shoulder.

Emma yawned pointedly at her. Much as she loved her friend, Elsa could sure get cranky when she was hungry. Or tired. Or...well, the list was lengthy. Snarkiness aside, Elsa was a true and loyal friend, and the best paralegal Emma had ever had. Nothing could brighten Emma's workdays at Gold, Mills & Mills like hearing Elsa turn all that icy wrath on an opposing attorney's staffers.

“Okay, okay...” Emma sighed, sweeping on some blush. _Gotta give myself a little color or I'll be mistaken for a corpse,_ she thought. “Be right there. Ugh. These late nights are killing me. How the hell are you so fresh and frosty this morning? We were both at the office until well after midnight!”

It was true. They'd been prepping for a hearing set for Monday morning, and both decided they'd be damned if they missed Girl's Day Out because they had to work on a Saturday. So, they'd stuck it out and spent their Friday night crafting witness questions and copying evidence exhibits.

“Frozen spoons. Under the eyes. Gets rid of the puffies. A little iciness can do wonders,” Elsa replied smugly. “And I think 'after midnight' might be putting it delicately. The last time I looked at a clock it was after 2:00 a.m.”

Emma rolled her eyes at her friend and smiled. “But we're gonna kick ass on Monday,” Emma singsonged. “Okay, Ice Queen, I'm ready when you are.” Emma turned to the brunette gazing intently out the sliding glass doors which led to the second-floor apartment's tiny balcony. “Ruby, are you ready to head out to lunch or do you want to keep staring at those movers for a while longer? You've been at it since that U-Haul pulled up out front.”

Ruby tore her gaze from the door, and twisted a wry smile at her roommate. “Hey, can you blame me? There are three delicious specimens of manhood out there, and you know I have a weakness for sweat and muscles.”

Emma snorted a laugh. Did she ever. Emma had met Ruby in law school. They both worked to pay their way (with the help of _significant_ student loans) by waiting tables at a diner called Granny's, which was owned and run by Ruby's actual Granny, Mabel Lucas. As long as Emma had known her, Ruby operated under a work-hard-play-harder philosophy of life. Sure, Ruby put in her hours at the diner, studied and made the grades in law school, and killed in the courtroom, but when the drudgery was handled for the day she wanted to go out and howl at the moon. Said howling inevitably involved, well... tequila, and some handsome, burly and ultimately disposable male. She was quite the man-eater. Emma had overheard some other (mostly male) attorneys down at the courthouse refer to Ruby Lucas as the She-Wolf.

“Yes, I am aware of your penchant for Alpha Dogs, and apparently the feeling is mutual.” Emma pointed back to the door through which the three women could clearly see one of the movers (blond, tan and muscle-bound) giving Ruby an appreciative once-over. Ruby slid open the glass door, stepped out onto the balcony and blew a kiss at the guy. Lust-struck, the mover tripped over his own feet and dropped the cardboard box he was carrying. A box marked “fragile.” The box struck the concrete sidewalk with a thud and an unfortunate shattering sound. The crash brought Emma and Elsa out to the balcony as well, just in time to hear an exasperated “Bloody Hell, mate!” followed by a string of creative cursing emitting from the trailer of the U-Haul.

“Oh, shit...” Ruby raised her hand in front of mouth in a gesture of mock horror, but her smirk belied any actual shame. “Did I do that?” Emma, Elsa and Ruby all tried to stifle their laughter. Still, the women apparently drew the attention of the broken property's owner as indicated by an abrupt stop to the cursing.

A dark, nearly black head of disheveled hair peeked out from the back of the trailer, and two shockingly blue eyes panned upward to find the source of the laughter. Ruby smiled brightly and a tad lasciviously at the man's emerging form. “Well, looky what we have here...” Ruby murmured to Emma, with an unsubtle nudge, “Smile, honey.”

The dark hair and blue eyes, the ladies soon saw, came with an expressive pair of dark brows and a full mouth which taken together formed a classically handsome, if a bit scruffy, face. The man's tall and lean body gave an impression of being weather-worn, suggesting a life spent outdoors. He was dressed for manual labor. His thin t-shirt and oil stained jeans did little to hide the curvature of toned biceps and (as Ruby would have phrased it) an ass you could bounce a quarter off of. Everything about the man said “rough-and-tumble”, so Emma could barely hide her surprise when the man hopped down from the trailer, nimble as a cat, made a sweeping bow and declared in a decidedly British accent, “A thousand apologies! I would never have let my language get away from me had I known there were ladies present.”

His eyes swept over the three women on the balcony and locked on Emma. He cocked an eyebrow at her and winked mischievously. Emma immediately felt a flush begin to creep across her cheeks and chest – the curse of the fair-skinned. _Guess I didn't need to worry about putting on blush after all,_ thought Emma. Behind her Elsa snorted derisively. “Delicate creatures that we are,” Elsa's voice dripped with sarcasm, “I believe we can handle a few naughty words. Don't mind us. Feel free to continue to swear like sailors.”

The man clearly sensed the dismissal in Elsa's tone. Pulling his gaze away from Emma, the man nodded and looked back over his shoulder. “Then I shall deem my apology as accepted and return to supervising these cretins, in hopes that at least some of my worldly goods will be intact by the time they reach my new residence.” With that, he turned, said something to the other two men and climbed back into the hold of the trailer.

With the show now over, Emma, Elsa and Ruby re-entered the apartment. “That was a bit cold, Elsa,” said Emma. “He seemed nice enough.”

“Fine. I'll bake him some cookies later or something. Now, back to business. Lunch? Shopping? It's Girls Day Out remember?”

“Lemme just grab my purse. Ruby! You're ogling again!” Emma hollered turning to her roommate who had resumed her place at the sliding glass door. Ruby shrugged unabashedly in response.

\---

As the three women walked out the front door of apartment 502, they noticed the door ajar to apartment 504 - immediately next door to Emma and Ruby's place. From the hallway looking in, they could see moving boxes strewn around the front room, and furniture askew. Clearly this was the destination of the movers they'd just been watching. “Emma, isn't that the apartment you just moved out of?” asked Elsa.

“Yeah, it is. When I first moved into this building they only had that one-bedroom unit available. When the two-bedroom unit opened up next door, I sweet talked the building management into giving me dibs.”

“And then her life was forever enhanced by the addition of me as a roommate!” interjected Ruby.

“Yes, and the addition of your shoes all over the floor and not to mention all the interesting little creatures and plant life that grow in the half-drunk mugs of tea you leave all over the place.” Emma quirked an eyebrow at Ruby. “They're really pretty friendly. One of the mugs waved at me yesterday as it tried to skitter out the front door.”

Ruby made a petulant face, and playfully shoved Emma on the arm. “You love me anyway.”

Emma sighed, “Like a sister.” Emma gave Ruby one more eye roll for good measure, and the three began to move together down the hallway toward the stairwell. Before they had gone three steps, they heard the sound of male voices coming up the stairs.

“Just pivot the bloody thing, mates, it'll make it.”

“Tell me...ugh... again why WE...ugh... are carrying YOUR couch...ugh... and YOU ...ugh...are carrying nothing?”

“I'm supervising! And I'll take no guff from you, you git, since you just broke all my fu-”

“Well, howdy there neighbor,” Ruby drawled at the dark haired man.

He spun around in surprise, cutting off his tirade mid-curse. “Howdy, indeed!” he replied, a slow smile spreading across his face. “Am I to understand that I have the good fortune of moving into the flat next door to you lot?”

“You do, in fact. We're 502,” Ruby answered sweetly. Proffering her hand she added, “I'm Ruby Lucas. My lovely roommate here is Emma Swan, and our sharp-tongued friend is Elsa Arendelle. Don't worry, she'll thaw out once you get to know her.” Elsa narrowed her eyes at Ruby for this last comment.

The man's eyes drifted to Emma again. She felt keenly aware of the fact that she hadn't managed to utter a word yet, and her blush deepened involuntarily. “Pleased to make your acquaintances. I am Killian Jones,” the man said, his eyes never leaving Emma's face. “And these two roughnecks,” he added, “are Victor Frank and Graham Humbert,” He gestured to the blond man and the darker haired, bearded man respectively. “My best mates. Here to assist me in my move and to hopefully destroy as little as possible.” Victor and Graham, each carrying and end of a rather heavy-looking sofa, acknowledged the ladies (Victor with a nearly indecent smile at Ruby and Graham with a gruff head nod), but did not linger to chat before hauling their burden into apartment 504.

“Come to think of it,” Killian continued, blue eyes twinkling, “I believe that Vic, in his appreciation of Miss Lucas's charms, has managed to break all my drinking glasses. Which, of course, means that we shall have to consume our ale this evening straight from the bottle. Would you perchance have a bottle opener I can borrow? Finding mine in all these boxes could prove like finding a needle in the proverbial haystack.”

“I can help you with that,” Emma said finally finding her voice. How on earth had her shy-switch gotten flipped? This wasn't like her. “Come on in, and I'll grab it for you from the kitchen.” Killian promptly followed her into apartment 502. Emma began rummaging around the kitchen drawers and cabinets in an attempt to locate the bottle opener. “Now if I can just find the stupid thing...” she mumbled half to herself.

“Love, if you need any assistance, I'd be more than happy to take a look in your drawers,” Killian teased, his expression cocky and flirtatious.

Emma stopped short and snorted out a laugh. “God, did you really just say that?” She tried to put an appropriate amount of mocking into her tone, but her smile as she turned and leaned back against the counter was too warm to make it convincing.

Killian's face fell at her laugh, but her lingering smile brought a bit of his smirk back. He leaned back against the other counter opposite her. “Apologies again, Swan. You seem to bring out the pirate in me.”

“Pirate? Really?” She raised an eyebrow at him.

“Well...” he began, scratching absentmindedly at his ear, “it's a bit of a joke amongst the lads out on the rig.”

“Ah... Rig as in oil rig. So when you referred to Vic and Graham as roughnecks...”

“I wasn't just referring to their manners. We all work together out in the Gulf on a drilling platform. You know, out on the high seas, searching for black gold, digging for buried treasure.” He cocked an eyebrow back at her. “Calling ourselves 'pirates' sounds much more intriguing than what we really are.”

“And what is that, exactly?”

Killian titled his head to the side, and there went that eyebrow again. “Besides devilishly handsome, you mean? Killian Jones, petroleum engineer, at your service.” Killian gave a small mock bow. “Vic and Graham are crew managers.”

“You're an engineer?” Emma raised her brows in interest.

“That I am, lass.”

Emma's mouth quirked downward at the corners in thought. “Well, Mr. Jones, you don't look like any engineer I've ever met, and you've certainly got a mouth on you.” Her eyelashes flicked down and then up as she looked him over head to toe with as much sass as she could muster. “I suppose you must be a pirate after all.” _See I can play, too,_ Emma thought.

Killian took a step toward her with a wicked smile. Small as her kitchen was, that one step closed more than half the distance between them. He was close enough now that she could just begin to feel the heat radiating from his body. She felt her flush return, and she hastily turned around to face the counter, mumbling something about getting back to the search for bottle openers. She leaned over to open the drawer now in front of her, stepped back to examine the contents and froze.

In her rush to hide her pink face, she'd backed right up into Killian, her rear end pressed against his thighs. _Oh, I did NOT just straight-up ass bump a complete stranger_ , Emma thought in horror. Straightening up out of the compromising position, and without turning around (her cheeks were flaming now) Emma raised a finger as if to call for a point of order. “That...um...” The finger wilted into a half-hearted fist. “Was not intentional...” She lowered her hand and smacked her lips awkwardly. “And also I found the bottle opener.” The words ran together almost into one syllable.

She turned to find Killian shaking with silent laughter, one hand across his eyes. Alright, now she was less embarrassed and more annoyed. “Amusing, am I?”

“No worries, love, it's just that I've never had a woman try to sit on my lap when I was standing up.” He fixed her with a roguish expression that only served to annoy her further.

Humming disdainfully, Emma put one hand on her hip and handed him the bottle opener with the other. “Here. Try to bring it back in one piece. I've seen how you and your roughnecks treat your own stuff. And for that matter, be careful if you intend to hang anything on your bedroom wall. I used to live in that unit, so I know the master bedroom in your apartment shares a wall with mine. The walls in this building are tissue thin – bang too hard on that wall and you'll be in my bedroom.”

 _Holy hell, did I just refer to banging against the wall and him being in my bedroom in the same sentence?_ The widening of Killian's eyes was subtle, but it was enough to confirm to Emma what she'd just said. When the inevitable blush hit her this time, she didn't turn away fast enough, and her reddened face was enough to earn her his cockiest grin. _Nope. Not gonna deal with this right now,_ Emma thought, and walked huffily to her apartment's front door. Killian followed her into the hallway, trying to take his smirk down a notch and failing spectacularly.

“My thanks for the implement, Miss Swan,” Killian stated, nodding his head as if bowing.

“Really? Again with the bowing?” Emma rejoined feigning coy, “Trying to prove to us what a gentleman you really are?”

“I am always a gentleman, love.” Killian's tone was earnest, but the flick of his tongue to the corner of his mouth, purely wicked. “Except for when I'm not.” He drew out the last word, and emphasized the final “t” in a way that Emma was sure made her cheeks glow red as a traffic light. _Dammit_.

“At any rate, it appears that you ladies were on your way out, so, gentleman that I am, I shall not keep you any longer. I expect I will be seeing you all again very soon.” With that, Killian took his leave. As the door to his apartment closed behind him, the three women could again hear the sounds of deep male voices shouting. Emma was sure she heard something to the effect of, “...quit mooning over pretty girls in the hallway and help carry some shit or I'll drop another box – this time on your foot.”

\---

When Emma and Ruby returned home that evening from their Girl's Day with Elsa, a strange message awaited them. Just a simple 3x5 note card, nothing special in and of itself. The strangeness derived from the fact that it was taped to their front door, just below the apartment number. And from the fact that it was a ransom note. For a kitchen gadget.

“Miss Swan,” the note read, “We have your bottle opener. It is in mortal peril. If you ever wish to see it again, you will come to apartment 504 at 8:15 p.m. tonight to negotiate its release. Bring your lovely friends. Your bottle opener's tiny metallic life is in your hands. Pizza and beer will be served.”

Emma was dumbfounded. She couldn't decide if this was ridiculously creative or just plain ridiculous. _Hell of a way to invite your neighbors over for a housewarming_ , she thought. Nonetheless, she couldn't seem to keep a smile from creeping onto her face. Ruby snatched the note from Emma's hands and read it out loud, using her most dramatic voice (which for Ruby, was saying something).

Ruby slapped Emma's shoulder with the 3x5 card. “You HAVE to go.”

Emma balked, “I...dunno. Who does stuff like ransom a bottle opener?”

Ruby would not be deterred, “You HAVE to go, and I HAVE to go with you, and so does Elsa. I'm calling her right now. Now go get your ass in the shower, we have a party to get ready for!”

As Emma retreated to her bathroom, she could hear Ruby on the phone with Elsa. “This'll teach you to make wanton promises about baking cookies for people... Because you know Emma and I can't cook, and we need a housewarming present...Fine. I'll owe you, now quit acting like you'll melt if you stand too close to the oven.... yeah, yeah, you know you love me. See you at 8.”

Emma turned on the shower. As she waited for the water to warm, she let her thoughts drift to her new neighbor. When she woke up this morning she sure as hell didn't think she was going to be handling hostage negotiations by the end of the day. Still, maybe a little bit of an adventure with a handsome pirate would do her some good.

 

 


	2. A Pirate's Ransom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Emma and friends answer the ransom note and attend a party at Killian's apartment.

“Did it shrink in the wash?” Emma eyed the skirt Ruby held up warily. It truly was a microscopic thing. _That could pass for a hairband,_ Emma thought. She knew, however, that voicing such an opinion to Ruby would be met, at best, with a snarl and a “You sound just like Granny.”

“Please!” Ruby scoffed. “That implies that I do laundry. It's HAWT.” Emma could actually hear the pubescent spelling of the word in her roommate's voice. “Killian wouldn't be able to keep his hands off of you.”

“Which is yet another reason why I think I'll stick with my skinnies.” Emma replied, patting the hip pockets of the jeans she wore. Emma could suit up with the best of them for work, but after hours, she was strictly a jeans-and-tee-shirt kind of girl. Granted, oft times those jeans were paired with do-me pumps or knee-high boots. “I am _really_ not looking to have a fling with someone we're going to have to live next door to.”

Ruby narrowed her eyes in skepticism. “Is this about Neal?” She placed the tiny skirt on Emma's bed, and sat down next to it. “Honey, I know you have... _something_ for him, but he's never gonna leave that trust-fund-princess fiancee of his.” Ruby said, not unkindly. “What's her name? Mary Margaret Blanchard. Could that BE any more pretentious?” Emma laughed weakly, as Ruby continued, “Not to mention she's a Senior Partner's step-daughter. Even you have to admit Neal's seriously ambitious. I just don't see him letting go of that kind of 'in' on the partnership track.”

“Ugh.” Emma groaned. “I don't want to talk about Neal tonight. Or his fiancee.” Emma's eyes dropped to her hands in her lap, and she began absentmindedly picking at her nail beds. From the day that Neal Cassidy transferred into the Dallas office of Gold, Mills & Mills, Emma had been smitten. Neal possessed what Emma would call a _presence._ He was handsome, yes, with warm brown eyes, a broad smile and broad shoulders. The deep, sexy whiskey voice didn't hurt, either. But beyond any physical attractiveness, there was just something about him that immediately put people at ease and inspired confidence. Unfortunately, for Emma at least, all that charisma was engaged, and to the step-daughter of Regina Mills – one of the M's in GMM and Emma's boss.

Neal had always been friendly to Emma. More than friendly, really. It began with harmless chatting at the office coffee pot each morning about the disgraceful quality of said coffee. This turned into Neal bringing her her favorite cinnamon dolce latte a few mornings every week. Then Neal began to talk to her about the cases he was working, bouncing ideas off of her, getting her ideas about how to argue certain issues, asking her if she could recommend any case law on point. These days it felt like Emma did as much work on Neal's cases as she did her own. _We really make a great team_ , Neal would tell her, and Emma would bask in the glow of his attention. Emma was gratified that someone respected her mind and expertise so much. On the other hand, more specifically on Mary Margaret Blanchard's hand, there was a big sparkly rock designating Neal Cassidy as off-limits.

Emma shook herself out of her despondent reverie, and turned back to Ruby, “Let's just go have some pizza and beer and negotiate the release of our bottle opener, okay?”

“Okay.” Ruby replied, brightening. “But, I still think you should wear the skirt.” An evil glimmer flashed in her eyes.

Laughing, Emma grabbed a flouncy throw pillow off her bed and chucked it at Ruby's head. “No skirt! But I promise to keep an open mind and play nice.”

“Pinky promise?” Ruby asked extending the finger in question.

“Pinky promise.” Emma answered hooking her finger around Ruby's.

\---

Half an hour later, with an Elsa-made batch of chocolate chip cookies in hand and expertly applied eyeliner courtesy of Ruby, Emma Swan and her friends entered apartment 504 for the first time since it had been Emma's own place of residence.

“Swan!” Killian shouted above the din, “You made it! And I see you brought the ravishing ladies Lucas and Arendelle as well.” The place seemed to teem with life, but, as it was such a small space to begin with, there were likely really no more than a dozen people present. Party-goers were clustered in small conversational groups around the place, drinking, chatting and eating pizza from the stack of greasy boxes on the small kitchen table. An open laptop hooked up to a modest set of speakers seemed to be serving as the party's DJ.

At that moment, Graham, with a mischievous grin, snatched a cookie from the plate in Elsa's hand. He began to make off with it, earning him an indignant huff from Elsa.

“Oi! Bad form, mate!” Killian hollered, “Graham, you heartless bastard, if you are going to sample a lady's sweets, at least have the decency to offer her a drink first!”

Graham looked mildly abashed. “Sorry, princess,” he said nodding at Elsa respectfully, “for your drinking pleasure we have beer, beer and beer. What can I get for you?”

“I think I'll have a beer, then.” Elsa replied imperiously, but she couldn't completely suppress the slight upward twitch at the corners of her mouth.

“Make that two!” Ruby chimed in.

“Make it three,” added Emma.

“Coming right up,” Graham replied with a point and a wink at Elsa, then he immediately disappeared into the throng.

“Now that your beverage orders are being handled, allow me,” Killian said gesturing to the cookie plates in Emma and Elsa's hands. He took the plates and turned to move toward the kitchen table, calling back over his shoulder, “Please, make yourselves at home!”

“Ooh...” Ruby pursed her lips at Killian's retreating form. “Hate to see you go, but love to watch you walk away,” she whispered, toying with her necklace.

Emma cut her eyes at Ruby and bumped her friend's shoulder with her own. “Down, girl.” Although, Emma had to admit, Ruby did have a point. Killian and his “mates” cleaned up quite well. Killian's beat-up tee-shirt had been replaced by a crisp button down in deep midnight blue, which only served to bring out the startling color of his eyes. His black hair, sweaty and disheveled this morning, was now clean and more artfully and intentionally rumpled. Killian still wore jeans, but these were lacking in oil stains and, Emma couldn't help but notice, fit more snugly in certain... strategic areas.

Elsa, apparently observing the direction of Emma's gaze, cleared her throat pointedly and raised a delicate yet sardonic eyebrow at Emma.

“What?” Emma furrowed her brows and raised her shoulders defensively. “Just doing a little window shopping, that's all.”

“Oh, of course.” Elsa purred with faux conviction, but as Emma's gaze drifted again in the direction of the kitchen, Elsa and Ruby shared a knowing smile behind Emma's back.

Graham returned with two beers in each hand, giving one to Elsa, Emma and Ruby who murmured their thanks, and keeping one for himself. He took a long pull on his own beer, eyeing the women appraisingly. While he drank, Victor walked up beside him and smacked him on the back, causing Graham to choke on his beer, and splatter a bit of it. “ _Dude!_ What kind of monster are you,” Graham sputtered at Victor in annoyance, “That was perfectly good Shiner you just wasted.”

“Yeah, _dude,_ ” Elsa's sarcasm was in full force, “and you spewed a good bit of it on _me._ ”

“So sorry, _princess_ ,” Graham retorted with equal sarcasm, his eyes flashing at Elsa, “Has my coarse manner offended you again?”

“Don't call me -”

“You know,” Victor interjected, stepping forward in an attempt to diffuse the tension, “We didn't really have a chance to meet you ladies properly in the hallway earlier. I'm Vic,” he said extending a placating hand to Elsa.

Elsa exhaled sharply, but her manner thawed appreciably as she shook his hand. “Elsa.”

“And you,” Victor turned to Ruby with obvious heat in his gaze, “are the little vixen who got me into so much trouble this morning.”

“Ruby,” she replied, her smile feral, “but if we're going to use pet names, I prefer 'She-Wolf' to vixen.”

Victor's eyes widened and his expression edging towards an all-out leer, “Is that right...” After a beat, he blinked and shook his head minutely as if to clear it. Turning, he continued, “And you must be the famous Emma Swan.”

Emma tilted her head quizzically as she shook Victor's hand, “Well, I'm Emma anyway...” _Famous?_ _What the...?_ Emma wondered, but she didn't have time to finish the thought.

Out of the corner of his eye, Victor had noticed Killian heading towards the group, and raised his voice. “As much as K prattles about good form, he is utterly failing as a host. To not even bother to make introductions for his beautiful guests...”

“Oi! I take offense to that!” Killian exclaimed indignantly, punctuating the statement with a good-natured punch to his buddy's arm. “And here I was just about to take the ladies on the ten cent tour.” He stepped next to Emma and extended an elbow towards her in an offer of escort. “Shall we, love?”

Emma raised her eyebrows at the formality of the gesture, but snaked her arm through his anyway, wrapping her fingers around his bicep. Looking sidelong up a Killian through her eyelashes, she asked, “You do remember I used to live here, right? I'm pretty familiar with the place.”

For two seconds, Killian closed his eyes and pressed his mouth into a thin line. Emma thought she detected the barest hint of a flush in his cheeks, but decided she must've been imagining it when his eyes opened and he flashed a charming smile. “Well then, I insist you show _me_ around. May as well get to know my new quarters.”

Emma chuckled warmly, “All right.”

“Besides, I am curious to know about this wall we reportedly share.” Killian concluded with a barely perceptible bite of his lower lip. Emma's cheeks reddened at the memory of their conversation in her kitchen earlier that day.

“Y'all go on ahead.” Ruby interjected. “Elsa and I are going to go grab a slice from the kitchen. Aren't we, Elsa?”

“Mm-hmm.” Elsa agreed, picking up on Ruby's hint. “And I think we'll mingle a bit. We'll catch up with you later.”

Emma felt a flicker of panic as her friends walked away. _I'm not nervous. Why would I be nervous? This is ridiculous._ Returning her attention to Killian, she began her best tour guide speech. “Okay, then. If you'll look to your right,” she gestured with the hand not wrapped around Killian's arm, “you will see the living room. The sliding glass doors over there lead to your balcony.”

“Do we have adjacent balconies as well as bedrooms, love?” Killian asked with a raised eyebrow.

“No,” Emma answered. _And stop saying bedroom like that._ “This unit is in the corner of the building, so my balcony faces one street and yours faces the cross street.”

“Ah. Pardon the interruption. Please continue.”

Turning their bodies, Emma gestured to the left, “Over here, we have the kitchen and breakfast nook.” Emma mentally noted that Ruby had already cut Victor from the herd, and had him alone in a corner of the kitchen, tracing her perfectly manicured fingernail down his chest as she talked to him. Emma snickered and shook her head at Ruby's antics. The girl had skills.

Elsa and Graham were talking near the food table... Actually, bickering was a more accurate description. An outside observer might have thought this was a disaster waiting to happen, but Emma knew that face Elsa was making. The “challenge accepted” face. Emma knew her friend loved nothing better than a spirited debate, and was probably enjoying herself thoroughly.

“Poor Graham,” Emma nodded in their direction. “He has no idea what he's walked into. I hope Elsa doesn't provoke him to distraction.”

“Ah, it's good for him.” Killian batted away any concern with a wave of his hand. “Graham dishes out enough provocation, he deserves to get a little back. Besides, he doesn't seem to mind being provoked by your lovely friend.” Killian lowered his chin, cast hooded eyes down at Emma's face and wet his lips, “Can't say as I would mind a bit of a provocateur in my life either.”

“ _You_ are incorrigible.” Emma tried to keep her face and voice deadpan, but a traitorous flush warmed her cheeks. She exhaled sharply. “Let's continue this grand tour shall we?”

Emma took a step forward towards the hallway, and in that moment realized she was still holding Killian's arm. Had been for... how long now? The contact between them felt so... natural. So _normal_ , even though being formally escorted around by a man was hardly a thing Emma did on a regular basis. Once, at a black-tie wedding a few years back, an usher had promenaded her arm-in-arm to her seat. _This_ was a completely different experience. Holding on to Killian's arm just felt comfortable – so much so that she had forgotten she was doing it.

Emma shook her head briefly to clear it, and the two walked together through the crowd the few steps it took to reach the apartment's one hallway. “Here we have a work-slash-desk area. Over there is the bathroom.” She gestured like a stewardess with two fingers of her free hand to the alcove on the right, then to the door on the left. “And directly in front of us is...” her voice trailed off as she pointed to the door. “The ah...” She pressed her lips together awkwardly and dropped both her hands to her sides.

“Bedroom?” Killian provided helpfully.

 _Seriously stop saying bedroom like that,_ Emma thought. “Yeah.” She nodded.

Killian opened the door with one hand and placed the other on the small of her back, guiding her into the room. Emma noticed immediately that the headboard of Killian's bed was positioned on the left wall of the room so that it would align exactly with her own headboard just on the other side of that wall. She walked quickly over to the wall in question, and away from the warmth of the solid hand at the base of her spine. She placed the fingers of one of her own hands to the wall, keeping her back to Killian (or more specifically, keeping her face away from him).

“So I take it this is the wall.” Killian stepped towards her, his lowered voice nearly a purr. “The wall you don't want me _banging_ against?”

Emma's jaw dropped at the audacious way he emphasized the word “banging”, whatever spell had been weaving around her now broken. She spun to face him, one hand on her hip, the other pointing dangerously at his chest. “Now listen, buddy...” Her green eyes flashed with irritation.

Killian raised his hands in a mea culpa gesture, but he was laughing. “You really are quite entertaining to get a rise out of, Swan.” Emma frowned, but withdrew the threatening finger.

He dropped one hand to his side and raised the other to her face to brush aside a wayward strand of blonde hair. “And as I said before,” his voice softened, “You do seem to bring out the pirate in me.”

As he lowered his hand from Emma's hair, he let his fingertips graze down the bare skin of her arm, leaving goose-flesh in their wake. He took another step closer to her, and Emma felt her body go completely still. Her eyes – wide as if she were a deer caught in headlights - locked on his, and her breathing caught. They weren't touching anymore, but he was so _close._ Without a single point of contact she could feel every inch of his body, the warmth of him washing over her. Killian tilted his head to the left and began to lean toward her slowly until their faces were mere inches apart, the intensity of his gaze sending chills through Emma's body.

And Emma panicked. She dropped her face hastily down and to the side, and expelled the breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. “I... I can't...” she whispered.

As Killian stepped back, his face moved through a range of expression from perplexed to hurt and finally to a dawning realization. He raised his fingers to his mouth and closed his eyes briefly. When he reopened them, their blue depths shone with apology and something else...disappointment?

“My deepest apologies, Swan, that was highly presumptuous of me. Of _course_ , a woman as remarkable as you would have her pick of any number of suitors.” Killian turned his face away from Emma, and awkwardly shoved his hands into his pockets, all his swagger gone. It was the first time since meeting him that Emma had ever seen him look vulnerable. “I didn't even ask... is there... do you have someone...” He raised his eyes and swept them over her face, searching.

Emma felt every drop of blood in her body rush into her face, and averted her eyes – unable to process the way he was looking at her. She could barely hear her own voice over the pounding in her ears. “Yes... I mean, no, not really...” she began lamely. She crossed one arm over her rib cage protectively, and raised the opposite fingertips to her forehead. “It's just... complicated.” She ran her fingers roughly through her hair for lack of any better idea of what to do with them. _What the hell am I babbling about?_ Emma thought. _It's not like I_ have _Neal..._

“Mr. Complicated is a lucky man.” Killian smiled warmly, having regained his composure. “I apologize again, very bad form to make a move on a woman who is otherwise attached.” Were it possible for Emma to blush harder, she would have. Killian extended his hand to her. “I supposed it'll just have to be mates, then.”

Emma looked down at the strong, callused hand being offered to her, then back up into Killian's impossibly blue eyes. She placed her small, graceful hand in his and smiled in earnest. “Mates. I can handle that.”

“Well then, mate, I supposed the tour is over. Let's rejoin the others. I've got some people I'd like to introduce to you.” Emma laughed, relieved. Killian gave her hand (still in his) a tug. “Come along, Swan.” Emma noticed that Killian didn't let go of her hand until they'd made it back into the living room.

\---

The party was now in full swing, several rounds of libations having been drunk by this time. The chatter around the living room had become more boisterous and animated. People were laughing, some were dancing. Ruby and Victor pressed scandalously against each other as they moved to the music. Elsa and Graham were having a blazing argument out on the balcony.

Killian introduced Emma to the other party attendees. Most of the men were Killian's co-workers, and the women their wives or girlfriends. The people were so open and full of life, and everyone seemed to have some hilarious or embarrassing Killian story with which to regale her. She relished seeing her new “mate” through their eyes.

After what seemed like minutes, but was more like several hours, a man whose name Emma recalled was Robin took his wife Marion's hand and said, “We've gotta head out. Friggin' babysitter's gonna charge us double if we stay any later.”

Killian extended his hand to the man, but Robin pulled him into a quick hug and slapped his back. “We'll miss you out on the rig, ya limey bastard.”

“Aye, you will that! But for calling me a bastard, I get to kiss your wife,” Killian laughed, and leaned over to give Marion a peck on the cheek. “And give little Roland a hug from his Uncle K.”

Robin nodded and turned toward the balcony door. “Hey! Graham! If you're gonna crash at our house we're leaving now, unless you want to sleep on a pile of boxes and beer bottles here. Where the hell did Victor go?”

Emma looked around the small apartment. Ruby and Victor were both nowhere to be seen. Emma cleared her throat. “Hm... unless I'm very much mistaken, I'm fairly certain Victor is next door with my roommate. He's probably... settled for the night.”

Robin ran a hand over his face and nodded knowingly. “Ah. Then I think we'll just leave him to his own devices. Pleasure to meet you, Emma. Keep an eye on this one for us, will you?” he said, inclining his head towards Killian.

“Won't let him out of my sight.” Emma promised with an upward quirk of her lips.

“I'd despair if you did, lass.” Killian said. His voice was melodramatic, but his expression unreadable.

Robin, Marion and Graham departed, followed soon after by Elsa and the rest of the party guests. Emma didn't know what made her linger. It was almost midnight, and she was exhausted. _I just don't want to walk next door and have to listen to whatever the heck Ruby and Victor are doing_ , Emma thought. _That's all it is._

The door closed behind the final leaving guest, and Emma and Killian found themselves alone. “You know, mate, you still haven't inquired as to my terms.” Killian said, teasing in his tone.

For a moment Emma was confused. “Your terms?”

“Why for the release of my hostage, of course!”

Emma laughed remembering his ransom note for her bottle opener. The very note that had brought her to this party. She put on her most serious expression and lawyerly tone, “So, then. What are your demands, pirate?”

“One kiss...” Emma's eyes widened, but before she could demur, Killian continued, “on your lovely hand. And that you allow me to walk you home. I am a gentleman after all.”

Emma chuckled, “Your terms are accepted.”

Killian retrieved the hostage implement from the kitchen and placed it in Emma's hand. He opened the front door for her with a dramatic sweeping gesture. _Gentleman indeed._ Then he walked beside her the handful of steps to her door with one of his hands again pressed gently to the small of her back. Emma found the simple touch as surprisingly natural and comforting as holding on to his arm had felt earlier in the evening.

Upon reaching the door to 502, Emma unlocked it with her key, and let herself into her apartment. Before closing the door, she looked up into Killian's eyes and extended her right hand to him, as promised. He raised a wicked eyebrow as he tenderly flipped her hand over so her palm faced upwards. Twinkling blue eyes never leaving her face, he softly pressed his lips to her palm, just below the wrist. The scruffy stubble of his chin scraped lightly across her palm and fingertips as he pulled away.

“Goodnight, lass,” his deep voice grumbled, and without another word, he turned and left.

Emma closed the door in a haze, but it didn't last long. “Honey!” Ruby's voice rang out, snapping Emma unceremoniously back to the present. “What. Was. That.”

Emma turned to find Ruby standing in her bedroom doorway clad in a red satin dressing gown. “Me negotiating the terms of the hostage release?” Emma waved the bottle opener at her roommate halfheartedly.

“Oh, girl, NO.” Ruby drawled, “We are gonna TALK about that because my panties just dropped so hard from that kiss, I'm amazed there isn't a hole in the floor, and it wasn't even MY hand.”

Emma opened her mouth to protest, but she was saved by the appearance of Victor grabbing Ruby by the waist from behind and pulling her back into Ruby's bedroom. “Oh, you liked that did you? Well, I've got a few more things I think you'll like...”

“Ew.” Emma grimaced, put her fingers in her ears, and ran to her own bedroom. Emma was truly glad that her bedroom and Ruby's were on opposite ends of the apartment. For good measure, she opened up the Pandora app on her phone and clicked the speaker on her nightstand to “on”. A little music to cover any... extraneous noises.

Emma was just settling into bed when she heard it. A tap-tap-tap on the wall behind her head. “You were right, Swan. These walls are thin as tissue.” Killian's disembodied voice floated through her wall. “I can hear your bloody radio as if it was in the room with me. At least you have respectable taste in music.”

Emma laughed to herself. She raised her hand above the headboard to the wall, and tapped his same pattern with three backwards flicks of her wrist. “Good, Night, Jones,” she said, one word per tap.

He replied in kind, “Good, Night, Swan.”

 


	3. Chapter 3

Tuesday morning at the law offices of Gold, Mills & Mills, Emma was surprised to find not only a cinnamon dolce latte, but also a single foil-wrapped drop of chocolate on her desk when she arrived. Emma squeaked happily to herself. _This must be from Neal!_

Her suspicions were confirmed as moments later Neal Cassidy sauntered into her office, a smile warming his eyes. “Hey there, gorgeous! I just wanted to give you a little 'kiss' to celebrate your impressive win yesterday.” Neal picked up the chocolate and dropped it into Emma's upturned palm.

Emma's heart stuttered, but she beamed with pride. “The client is beyond pleased. Huge money judgment against her scuzzbucket ex for five years of back child support _plus_ interest. _And_ Judge Hopper was so pissed at the guy for his 'unconscionable conduct' he sanctioned him, so now _he_ has to pay _my_ attorney's fees. Boom.” Emma punctuated the statement with an emphatic smack of her palm on the desktop. “The client damn near kissed me herself right there at the counsel table.”

“Not bad, Ems.” Neal nodded his approval, sitting down in a chair across from her desk. “Keep that up and you'll be a lock for one of the two Junior Partner spots that rumor has it are about to open up.” Neal paused for effect. The partnership track was notoriously difficult to climb at GMM. For more than one partner position – even junior level partnership – to come available at the same time was unheard of.

“Nooooo.....” Emma breathed in shock, “Seriously?”

“Yep. Word is that the bosses are looking to promote from within our lowly associate ranks.” Emma pursed her lips contemplatively as Neal continued. “You know, if you're looking to make an impression on the partners, I may have just the thing. Regina and Gold have a major appeal coming up on a case for Midas Corp.” Emma raised her eyebrows. Midas Corp. was GMM's wealthiest and most influential client. “Regina asked me to work on the appellate brief. You want in?” Neal waggled his eyebrows at her.

“Are you kidding me? Of course, I want in!” Emma leaned forward in her chair excitedly. “If we help get the bosses a win for Midas, we'd be shoe-ins for those promotions. Not to mention the firm would make an obscene amount of money.”

“All right! That's my girl.” Neal grinned at Emma and stood, walking around to her side of the desk. He leaned in close to Emma, and plucked the ball point pen that held her hair in a messy chignon. Emma's long blond hair cascaded down around her shoulders, as he reached across her and grabbed a pad of sticky notes, quickly jotting down a series of numbers using the pen he had snatched from her hair. “That's the case number for the appeal and the underlying suit so you can start reviewing everything.” He placed the notepad and pen back on her desk.

Emma's heart palpitated. He'd been so close she could smell his aftershave, feel the warmth of his body. She could barely breathe.  _Neal's always been friendly, but this...This is new._ “I'll look into it,” she managed to squeak out.

“Thanks, Ems.” Neal hovered near her bouncing slightly on his toes.

“What?” Emma looked him up and down quizzically. “Am I missing something?”

“So...” Neal began subtly sliding his hands into his pockets, “Did you like your celebratory coffee-and-a-kiss?”

Emma snickered at him and batted her eyelashes. “Yes, I liked the kiss.”

“Well, then let's just make out!” With that, Neal pulled a handful of chocolate kisses out of his pocket and tossed them lightly onto Emma's desk.

“Ohmigod...” Emma huffed. She attempted a scornful eye-roll at the cheesy joke, but was betrayed by the feverish blush in her cheeks.

Her flush made Neal's boyish smile grow wider, and he looked thoroughly pleased with himself as he turned to leave her office. “See you later, Ems,” he singsonged at her over his shoulder.

Emma was still blushing furiously and attempting to regain control of her heart rate when she entered Elsa's office a few minutes later.

Elsa looked up from her computer screen and gave Emma's face and demeanor a quick and clinical analysis. “Soooo...I see you've been chatting with Mr. Cassidy this morning.” Emma looked down at Elsa's desk calendar avoiding Elsa's stare. The image at the top of the calendar was modeled after a motivational poster, but the caption below read “Some people just need a high-five. In the face. With a chair.” At cursory glance, the calendar looked professional enough – GMM prided itself on its pristine professional image – but Elsa perversely delighted in taking little liberties with that image. She called it being “faux-fessional”.

Taking Emma's evasive pause as confirmation, Elsa continued. “Did he drop off another load of his homework for you to do for him? You gonna meet him after study hall to give him your algebra notes?”

Emma frowned at her friend. “I do _not_ do Neal's homework for him. We collaborate.”

“Hon, you need to stop collaborating and listen to me. That man is trouble.”

“Your objection is noted for the record.” Emma deadpanned. “But seriously, though. Neal came by first of all to congratulate me on my win yesterday.” Elsa raised an eyebrow at her. “I should say _our_ win, since you're the one who went through all those records and found where the guy was hiding money.” Emma paused to high-five her paralegal. “And also to tell me there's buzz about some Junior Partner slots coming up.”

“Well, he's right about that. To clarify, I refer to both his assessment of our awesomeness and about the JP jobs. Gold's looking to promote from within the firm this time. Apparently the last attorney he poached from DeVille & Associates was a complete disaster. Anyway, supposedly you, Ruby, Cassidy and Booth are the front-runners.”

“How do you know all this stuff?”

Elsa looked skyward and spread her hands as if receiving truths from the heavens. “Elsa knows all.”

“I shall never doubt you.” Emma smiled, placing a melodramatic hand over her heart. “Anyway, Neal is letting me get in on drafting the brief for the Midas Corp. appeal. _That_ ought to get the partners' attention.”

“He's 'letting you' is he?” Elsa crossed her arms over her chest. “Emma, be careful with that guy. I trust him about as far as I can throw a chair.”

Emma furrowed her brows and quirked one side of her mouth upwards. “That's not how the saying goes...”

“I stand by my statement.” Elsa said emphatically. “I would want to keep Neal Cassidy in chair-throwing range at all times. And I swear to God, Emma, if I see you carrying his books to school, I'm gonna throw a chair at you, too!”

Emma scrunched her nose at Elsa, “I hate you,” she said but there was no real rancor behind the words.

“Well, I hate Cassidy. And no, you don't. You'd be _lost_ with out me.” Elsa gave Emma a beatific smile.

“Yeah, yeah...Doesn't mean I don't hate you.” Emma huffed out a breath. Plopping down into the chair across from Elsa's desk, she set a yellow legal pad on her knee and pulled free the pen that had been clipped to it. “Okay. So, what emergencies have our clients gotten themselves into this morning?”

-x-

Days went by more or less according to Emma's usual rut: working with Elsa to stick it to cheating spouses, liars and deadbeats, picking up dinner from Granny's Diner, listening to Ruby's dramatic exploits (either from the courtroom or the bedroom). But ever since the night of the party in 504, there had been one small addition to Emma's routine. Every night as she settled into bed, she would hear Killian's “Good, Night, Swan.” tap on her wall. And every night she returned it. Sometimes they said the words, sometimes it was just the three taps, but they never missed a night. Emma had come to accept it as an integral part of the end of her day. She couldn't fully relax into sleep without it. Something about knowing he was there, just on the other side of her wall, made her feel secure. At peace.

Of course, she and Killian saw each other face-to-face as well. They'd pass in the hall most evenings as she was returning from work. At first, they simply exchanged pleasantries, but the evening chats in the hallway grew progressively longer. By Friday night, (not quite one week after Killian had moved in), Ruby interrupted them as she was leaving 502 for her nocturnal adventures, and suggested the two of them come inside and actually sit down. In chairs. At a table or something.

They were still talking at Emma's kitchen table when Ruby returned with her latest quarry hours later. “Don't let ush interrupt,” Ruby slurred with a tipsy grin, “Jusht passing through.” She giggled as she led her new friend by the necktie towards her room.

“I believe that is my cue to bid you adieu.” Killian said, rising from the table. “Swan, I hope you have a good playlist prepared. I have a feeling we're both going to need a bit of musical distraction tonight.”

Emma gave him a reassuring wink and nod. “Gotcha covered. I'm thinking some AC/DC... maybe KISS. Something, you know... noisy.” Emma began to stand from her chair, but as soon as she put the foot that had been tucked underneath her on the floor, she felt the sting of pins and needles. “Ack! Could you give me a hand here? My foot's fallen asleep.”

“Of course, mate.” Killian extended his hand to her and gripped her hand tightly as she pulled herself up. She leaned some of her weight on him, her hand pressed to his shoulder while his arm wrapped behind her waist. She walked – hobbled, really – with him to the door.

He opened the door and stepped through the opening, leaving her to lean on the door handle for support. “Think you have your sea legs back now, mate?” He grinned, cocking one eyebrow at her.

Emma's foot was mostly awake by now. She rolled her eyes at Killian, but smiled back. “Yeah, I think I'm all set. Fit to buckle some swash or whatever.”

Killian chuckled and shook his head, returning her eye roll for good measure. “In that case, good night, Swan.”

“Good night, Jones.”

Emma shut the door and made straight for her bed room. The noises from Ruby's side of the apartment had already begun. She clicked on her speakers and hit play, the opening riffs of “You Shook Me” following her to the bathroom. She washed the day off of her face, slipped on her pajamas, and was just crawling into bed when she heard the tap-tap-tap. She tapped back, and smiled to herself as she closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.

-x-

Ruby and her homme du jour were already gone when Emma awoke the next morning. Emma decided that this was a golden opportunity to laze about on the couch in her pajamas and do some channel surfing. She had just gotten comfortable and switched on the TV when she heard Ruby's key in the door.

“I come bearing doughnuts!” Ruby's voice drifted through the slowly opening door, and Emma perked up immediately. Her glee turned to mortification, however, when not one, but two dark heads peeked around the door. “And look what followed me home! Can I keep him?” Ruby chirped with childlike brightness as she entered the apartment, Killian close behind.

Emma instantly became fiercely aware that she a) was not wearing makeup, b) was _not wearing a bra,_ and c) the men's white tank top/undershirt thing she'd slept in was making point b) extremely apparent. _Shit._ Emma crossed her arms over her chest protectively, and snuck a glance at Killian's face – one dark eyebrow raised suggestively, smirk firmly in place. _Yup. He noticed._ _And he doesn't even have the good grace to pretend he didn't notice. Some gentleman._ Emma studiously tried to ignore Killian's presence. Turning on Ruby, she said, “You know this apartment complex doesn't allow pets.”

Killian placed a hand to his chest in feigned offense, “Aw, be a sport, Swan! I don't have fleas and I promise I won't bite.” He paused and flicked his tongue across his lower lip, “Unless requested, of course.”

Emma blushed from the roots of her blond hair to the tips of her bare feet. Briefly unable to respond, she dropped her forehead into one hand (judiciously keeping the other arm across her chest) and exhaled forcefully. Upon regaining her composure, she stood and glared at the two unrepentant sinners in front of her. “I'm just going to go get a sweater,” she said with whatever dignity she could muster, and retreated to her bedroom.

Before she'd gone two steps, Emma heard Ruby call after her, “Good idea, Hon, you did look a bit cold!” Emma froze with her back to the others. _Ruby! What the actual f-_ , but she bit back her retort and resumed her dramatic storm-out against the soundtrack of Ruby and Killian's snickering.

When Emma returned to the living room (now wearing a bra and a slouchy cardigan as armor, along with her tank top and pajama pants), she found Ruby had taken up her usual spot in the arm chair near the TV and Killian was...sprawled was the only word for it... on the couch. The couch wasn't small, but Killian's six-foot frame was dominating about three-fourths of it. He had one large cushion pressed against an arm rest behind him, and was hugging a smaller throw pillow to his chest like a teddy bear. His long legs were both stretched to full length with his socked feet up on the seat cushions. _At least he bothered to take his shoes off,_ Emma thought. He looked like a big kid. She'd have been almighty pissed at him, if he didn't look so adorably at home.

Killian noticed her return and rolled over onto his side, so that his back was pressed against the back of the couch. He patted the newly opened space in front of him. “Come on, mate, make yourself comfortable. Ruby was just suggesting a Netflix marathon of some show called 'Smallville'.”

Emma pointedly ignored his suggestion that she be the little spoon, and grabbed a handful of doughnut holes from the box on the coffee table. She moved toward the empty end of the couch, swished Killian's feet to the floor with her non-doughnut-laden hand, and sat down. Killian clicked his tongue at her. “Tsk. Your loss, Swan. I've been told I'm an excellent pillow.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “I'll just bet you have. Now stop being a couch-hog and hand me my coffee, please.”

Killian complied, and as he passed the latte to Emma he took a sniff of the beverage. “I'm sensing a bit of a pattern here. Cinnamon coffee, cinnamon sugar doughnut holes...”

“It's kind of Emma's _thing_.” Ruby answered. “Her favorite is cinnamon hot cocoa -”

“- But cocoa just doesn't pack the caffeine punch I need in the morning.” Emma finished.

“Ah.” said Killian with a nod. “Noted.”

“Wait,” said Emma suspiciously, “What do you mean 'noted'?” She imitated his deep voice and matter-of-fact tone.

“Well you see, you're not exactly forthcoming with information about yourself. Since we're mates and all now, I'm trying to puzzle together who the real Emma Swan is.”

“Wouldn't you like to know!” Emma teased.

“Yes, I believe I would.” Killian replied, and for a moment it was as if a mask had fallen from his face. Just like in his bedroom the night of the party, Killian looked open and vulnerable. The looked disappeared as quickly as it had come, and Emma almost thought she'd imagined it, but the way Ruby cut her eyes to Emma told her that Ruby had seen it, too. “And now I know she's a cinnamon and caffeine addict.” He added and gave Emma's calf a nudge with his toe, mischievous glint returning to his blue eyes.

“She's also a girl with a serious Clark Kent fetish. She can't resist hero-types with dark hair and blue eyes.” Ruby interjected slyly, while reaching for the remote control and another doughnut hole. “Let's get this marathon started.” She began pressing buttons on the remote, as Killian snapped his head towards Emma, his eyebrows nearly up to his hairline.

Emma felt herself flush again, to the tips of her ears. She closed her eyes and spread her hands, palms heavenward as if praying for strength. “ _Please_ tell me this isn't the new normal,” Emma whispered to the universe at large, “Her embarrassing me. Him laughing at it. Me trying not to kill the pair of them?”

Emma received no answer from the universe, but was prevented from having to continue the awkward conversation by the opening strains of the Smallville theme song. As some 90's band plaintively crooned the line “Somebody sa-a-ave me!” Emma thought to herself, _How appropriate..._

-x-

Ruby took her leave after the first three episodes. “Time for me to go meet Granny for our weekly lunch and critical performance review of my life choices!” Ruby sighed dramatically. “Think I ought to bring her some doughnuts? I'd hate for her to disapprove of me with low blood sugar.”

“Hey,” Emma chastised, “Granny loves you more than anything in the world. She wouldn't be so judgmental if she didn't care.” Emma smiled at her roommate, who grimaced back. “But I think bringing a basket of goodies to grandma's house is a little on-the-nose...”

“Good point. Besides, it's not like she doesn't run a diner. She's got access to food. Granted it's fatty, greasy, cheesy, inedible food, but food nonetheless.”

“I LOVE Granny's food!” Emma protested. “It's comfort food. It's supposed to be greasy and cheesy.”

Ruby replied, “Well then you can have it, girlfriend. While I'm out I'm gonna run by the drug store and restock my travel supplies.” Emma looked confused, so Ruby added, “I've got to fly out Wednesday to Chicago for depositions the rest of the week, remember?”

“Ah. Forgot about that.”

“I'll be back next Saturday morning. Anyway, do you need anything from the store? Toothpaste? Lipgloss? Condoms?” Ruby wiggled a suggestive eyebrow at Emma and Killian who were now leaning against each other shoulder-to-shoulder on the couch.

Emma gasped. “Ruby, ohmigod. Get out!” she yelled, pointing towards the door. Emma could feel Killian's torso shaking next to her in silent laughter. _How long have we been sitting all...cozy...like this?_

Ruby cackled shamelessly and made her exit. Once she was gone, Killian turned his face towards Emma, keeping their bodies pressed together at the shoulder. “That roommate of yours is a real firebrand, Swan.”

“Yeah, you could say that.” Emma kept her eyes on the TV screen. “Question: did that firebrand really just happen to bump into you in the hallway this morning or...?”

“I can neither confirm nor deny that the lady Lucas knocked on my door this morning and informed me that I should, ah...'Come to the Dark side. We have donuts.'”

“That's what I thought. She has her little ways of making things happen when she wants.”

“She does indeed. She certainly did a number on Victor. He's really quite taken with her.”

Emma raised her eyebrows and quirked up one side of her mouth into a half-smile, “Is he now...” she turned her face towards Killian and suddenly became aware that their faces were now inches from each other. Her smile dropped and she looked quickly back toward the TV, pulling her body away from him in what she hoped was a subtle manner. She could feel Killian's continued gaze on her face, gauging, measuring. “I...uh... haven't seen him around since you moved in, is all. Graham either. Where have your mates been?”

“They're out on the rig now,” Killian answered, and Emma was relieved to have diverted his focus from her facial expressions. “They shipped out Monday. They were really only in town to help me move.”

“But you didn't have to ship out with them?” Emma scooted towards her end of the couch but turned her body towards Killian, tucking one of her legs underneath herself.

“No, lass. I'm strictly a desk jockey now. That's part of why I moved to Dallas – our company's hub office is here. I used to be based out of Houston, like Vic and Graham still are. It's closer to the Gulf, so the... commute, if you can call it that, is cheaper. Really the rig crews can call anywhere home, so long as they can get themselves to Galveston to catch a helicopter out to the rig for their shifts. But... now that I'm not working on the rig anymore, I needed to be close to the office.”

“Why did you decide to stop working out on the rig?”

Killian's face darkened. “Let's just say that being away from home for weeks at a time finally took too much of a toll on me.”

Even though he was not looking at her anymore, Emma could see the storm clouds of emotion roiling behind Killian's eyes. She desperately wanted to press for the rest of the story, but... _We've all got our history_ , she thought. _I wouldn't want him poking at any of my scars._ So instead, she said, “I can tell there's more to it than that, but you can tell me later. _If_ you want to. I mean, we really just met each other a week ago. Who am I to push you to spill your secrets?”

Killian let out a breath, seemingly relieved, but his smile was wan. “Who indeed?” he murmured, his eyes searching her face once again.

“How about we get back to the super heroes and meteor freaks?” Emma said lightly, picking up the remote.

“A grand idea, mate.” Killian agreed. “I can't say as I understand this Kent bloke, though. I've never seen a man so effectively cock-block himself. He's apparently in love with this Lana Lang, but he keeps getting in his own way!”

Emma laughed. “It works out all right in the end. He and Lana do get together for a while. Then some vengeful villain infuses Lana with Kryptonite so she and Clark can't even be around each other anymore.”

Killian was aghast. “And how exactly is that 'working out all right in the end'?”

“Stay with me on this. Lana was Clark's first love, but after that bond was finally severed, it made room for him to fall in love again. With his true love Lois Lane. Everybody gets so hung up on first loves. They _are_ important and can shape you as a person and should never be forgotten, but a person's first love is rarely their _last_ love.” Emma knew she was rambling, but was shocked to see that Killian had frozen stock still. His blue eyes were piercing, practically driving holes through her skin. “You okay?” she asked tentatively.

Killian shook himself and his jovial demeanor returned. “Fine, mate. Let's just watch the further adventures of Captain Cock-block.”

“You got it, mate.” Emma smiled and clicked 'play' on the remote. She didn't notice how about ten minutes into the episode, she and Killian were shoulder-to-shoulder leaned against each other again.

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This chapter is rated A for Angst... You've been warned.  
> Also, I keep finding myself wanting to go back and add in some Killian POV sections. Anybody think that's a good idea? Tell me in the comments, please.

Wednesday afternoon, Ruby popped by Emma's office. “Hey, babes. I just came to tell you 'Bye'. I'm about to leave for the airport.”

Emma stood, smoothing her skirt. “Okay. Have a good flight. Don't try to join the mile high club or anything like that.” Emma smiled sarcastically and moved around to the front of her desk.

Ruby scoffed. “Argh, like I could if I wanted to. The FAA has gotten so... _pissy_ about such things. The last time I tried to get cozy with a male flight-attendant mid-air, I ended up in airport jail getting frisked by a _female_ air marshal. No. Fun.”

Emma very nearly spit out the sip of coffee she'd just taken from the mug on the corner of her desk. “I... am not sure what to say to that.” She shook her head as if to clear the mental image. Changing the subject, Emma continued, “Are you going by Elsa's office, too? I need to talk to her about a pre-trial scheduling order we just received. I can walk with you.”

“Sure am. Come on then.” Stilettos clicking against the polished hardwood floor, the two women walked down the hall to the paralegal offices.

Before they made it through Elsa's door, she raised an impatient finger at them. “Nope. No no no no no.” she commanded, eyes never leaving her computer screen and fingers of the non-raised hand still typing meticulously. “Can't help you right now. Regina's up my ass to get a bunch of subpoenas ready for service.” With a flick of her wrist, Elsa gestured to the door. “Both of you out. I love you, but she outranks you.”

“Fine.” Ruby sniffed, “I was coming to tell you goodbye anyway. If my plane goes down in a big ball of fire, I hope you're able to sleep at night knowing that the last time you saw me, you told me to get the hell out.”

Elsa's fingers stopped flying across her keyboard and her shoulders slumped in resignation. “Ah. That's today then, huh? Okay, c'mere.” Elsa stood and began to walk over to hug Ruby.

As she rounded the corner of the desk, however, Emma gasped. “ _What_ are those!” Emma looked pointedly down to the floor at the electric blue fuzzy house slippers on Elsa's feet. “And how many Muppets did you have to skin to make them?”

Ruby cackled at the sight. “Are you freezing or something? What happened to 'the cold never bothers me...'?”

“It's not the cold, it's the heels.” Elsa replied defiantly. “I hate wearing them, and no one ever sees my feet under the desk anyway...”

“Except, of course, when you actually leave your desk and are in full view of the hallway and any passing client.” Regina Mills's unnervingly calm, measured voice caused Emma, Ruby and Elsa to snap to attention.

“Ms. Mills,” Elsa stammered, “I didn't realize...”

“Obviously.” Regina sauntered into Elsa's office as if she owned the place, which, of course, she did. “If the three of you are done with your little hen party, please allow Miss Arendelle to return to work on my subpoenas.” Turning to Elsa, she continued, “I expect those to be on my desk ready for my signature by 2:00 p.m. I want to make sure Henry has enough time to get them all served by close of business.”

“Yes, ma'am.” Elsa replied meekly, and sat back down to her computer. Emma found it completely unsettling to see Elsa play the humble servant. Normally, Elsa was the one giving commands. Emma shivered involuntarily.

Regina directed her imperious glare at Ruby next. “Miss Lucas, don't you have a plane to catch.”

“I was just on my way out.” Ruby moved for the door, but when Regina turned away, Ruby made a dramatic expression of terror behind her boss's back. Emma choked out a laugh and attempted to cover it lamely with a cough.

“Miss Swan, did you have something to add?” Regina appeared supremely and regally unamused.

Emma steeled her resolve, and cleared her throat. “Actually yes, ma'am. I do. I wanted to let you know I've made something of a breakthrough on the Midas Corp. appeal brief. I couldn't find any binding precedent that was on point, so I researched Judge Spencer instead. I found that there are a couple of other appellate circuit judges that he quotes all the time in his opinions. _Then_ I found case law that supports our position from those appellate circuits. I believe Judge Spencer will find those cases extremely persuasive.”

Regina narrowed her eyes at Emma, but her expression betrayed nothing. After an excruciating pause, Regina replied, “An ingenious tactic, Miss Swan. I'll be very interested in seeing this brief once it is completed. In fact, Miss Arendelle, please email me the red-line version of the brief from our document management system _after_ you finish my subpoenas.”

Elsa paused her typing, tilted her head slightly in puzzlement and looked up at Regina. Regina gave her a nearly imperceptible nod, and Elsa once again responded with a “Yes, ma'am.”

Regina turned and grandly exited Elsa's office without further comment. Emma leaned over Elsa's desk and whispered “What the hell was that about?” After Regina's magical appearance out of nowhere only minutes ago, Emma couldn't shake the feeling that the walls had eyes and ears.

Elsa shook her head very slightly, keeping her eyes on her screen. “I don't know yet. But Regina _never_ asks to see red-lines. Finished product only. Something's up, and I don't like it when something's up and I don't know about it. I have my reputation as Elsa the All-Knowing to uphold.”

-x-

That Friday night, nearly two weeks to the day from the date on which they became neighbors, Killian stopped Emma as she was attempting to unlock her door and balance her purse, briefcase, and Granny's Diner take-out bag at the same time.

“Swan, I can stay silent no more,” he said moving from his open doorway. He grabbed the Granny's bag from Emma's hands with a disapproving head shake at the offending object. “Every single day since I've lived here, I have seen you with one of these greasy... things.” He pointed at the bag with disgust. “I have grave concerns for the state of your arteries - not to mention you've caused the entire hallway to reek of onion rings. I insist that you dine with me this evening. I will cook and in that way insure that you are eating actual food.”

Emma paused, taken aback, so Killian continued, “Don't mistake this for altruism, Swan. This is purely for my own benefit. If you should die of a sudden heart attack brought on by excessive onion ring consumption, God knows what kind of bloody demon might move into your flat. I am merely protecting myself.”

Emma sighed and set her purse and briefcase on the hall floor. There were admittedly only so many grilled cheese sandwich and onion ring combos a girl could eat consecutively. Then again... She narrowed her eyes at him. “I resent the aspersions you're casting on my favorite diner. And on my arteries. If I agree to this dinner, you have to agree to come to Granny's with me on a night of my choosing, so you can experience the wonderfulness of it for yourself. After which, of course, you will owe me an apology.”

“Agreed.” Killian extended his hand to her and Emma shook it forcefully. “And the deal is struck. Come on over whenever you're ready, mate. Feel free to slip into something more comfortable if you wish... I rather liked that little white top you wore last Saturday.” Killian lowered his eyelids and bit his lower lip suggestively.

Emma pulled her hand away placing it on her hip, and narrowed her eyes. “Watch it, _mate._ ”

Killian raised an eyebrow and smiled innocently, “Merely a passing thought, lass.”

Emma hummed in disapproval, but relented. “I'll be over in a little bit.” She turned back to the task of unlocking her door. “You go get your pretty little self into the kitchen.”

“I prefer 'dashing' to 'pretty', but I do appreciate your acknowledgment of my physical charms.” Killian paused and Emma tried to keep her face to her door so he couldn't see her blushing. However, as she reached down to pick up her purse and briefcase again, she snuck a quick look at him. He noticed, and crinkled his nose at her, blue eyes twinkling, “I look quite fetching in an apron, mate.”

Emma rushed into her apartment. _Nope. Nope – I am NOT thinking about that man in an apron... in just an apron... NOPE!_

-x-

A little over an hour later as Killian was clearing the dishes, Emma had to concede she was impressed. It was nothing fancy - green salad, baked chicken with some amazing sauce Emma didn't recognize, and steamed veggies – but everything was delicious, and admittedly far less heart attack inducing than her standard grilled cheese.

“I'd say you're officially a better cook than me, but that isn't saying much to be honest.” Emma said and took the last sip from her glass of wine. The bottle of pinot gris had been her sole contribution to dinner. “Where on earth did you learn to cook like that?”

“The 'where' would be back in Houston.” Killian replied from the kitchen. “The 'why' would be because when I was offshore, I was limited to whatever slop they served in the mess hall. I made a point of learning to cook, so I could actually enjoy my meals when I was in port. Houston is an amazing place for Tex-Mex. That's my specialty... I'd have made you fajitas that would make you _sing_ , if only this building weren't so bloody narrow minded about propane grills on the balcony.”

“And I'm sure your lady-friends are duly impressed by a man who can cook, right?” Emma teased. She thought she saw a flash of storm clouds behind his eyes, but it was gone as quickly as it had appeared. “Quite the line, insisting that a girl come over for dinner to save the damsel's distressed cholesterol levels. Don't think I didn't recognize that this was a set-up.” Emma felt the warmth of the wine spreading through her, loosening her tongue.

Killian walked back to where Emma sat at the table. She looked up at him, half-smiling in challenge, daring him to deny it. Killian returned her stubborn smile for a moment, then took both her hands in his and leaned close so that he could whisper in her ear. “And yet, you said yes...”

He was so _close..._ She could feel the warmth of his breath on her ear and neck. Emma's face fell and her body stilled as all the blood rushed to her cheeks. She shuddered a breath. “Killian, I -”

He pulled back and dropped a knee to the floor, so that they were more or less at eye level with each other. Keeping her hands in his, he spoke softly, almost as if she were a wild creature he was trying not to spook. “Emma, I agreed we'd just be mates, and I intend to honor whatever boundaries you wish to put in place. But a man can hope. And a lady should know she has... options.”

He held her gaze and her hands for one more beat to allow his meaning to sink in, then suddenly broke into a smile. In quick succession, he released her hands, patted her knees twice, and popped back up to a standing position. “Come on, Swan. Go grab a seat on the sofa. I'll make us a little after-dinner treat and we can continue our Smallville marathon.”

Emma's mind reeled. She wasn't sure which she found more disconcerting, Killian's intimate declaration that she had “options” or how he managed to flip a switch and go straight back into friend-mode with hardly a bat of an eye. _It's not like I haven't thought about it, and it's not like Neal's any less engaged. But...what if..._ Emma's thoughts began their habitual downward spiral into the darkness. The foster homes, the family that cast her aside when they discovered they were having a “real” child, a yellow Volkswagen, juvie... _it doesn't matter. It doesn't matter what I do because I don't matter...In the end I won't matter to him._

Killian's voice snapped Emma out of her black reverie. “Here you go, mate. Try a sip of this.” Killian placed a warm mug in Emma's hands. Somehow she'd managed to wander over to his couch and sit down on the edge, one leg tucked underneath her. “You know, Swan, you can actually relax a bit if you want. You never seem to properly sit down, you sort of _perch_ like a bird. Always with that foot coiled beneath you, ready to push off and take flight at any moment.”

Emma laughed as Killian sat down on the other end of the couch, a steaming mug in his own hands. “I suppose that's a fair assessment.” She took a sniff at her mug. “What is this? It smells amazing!”

“El Dorado hot chocolate. Give it a taste, mate.”

Emma took a small sip of the hot liquid and literally moaned before she could stop herself. Killian's self-satisfied smirk did not dissuade her from taking another, deeper drink from the cup. As she sighed in bliss, Killian continued, “Secret recipe. It's got a splash of spiced rum and cinnamon liqueur. Since Ruby was so kind as to inform me of your love of cinnamon hot cocoa, I felt it my duty to introduce you to this libation. I take it you approve?”

Killian took a sip from his own mug, his eyes never leaving Emma's. She wasn't sure if the warmth she felt spreading through her was caused by the glint of his blue eyes, or the spiked hot cocoa. Either way, her dark thoughts from minutes ago were utterly forgotten, and she began to relax in body and mind. She nestled back into the cushions of the couch. “I definitely approve. Can I get your secret recipe, or will I have to swear some pirate's blood oath for it?”

Killian hummed, considering. “I'm sure I can come up with some form of payment which we would both enjoy.” He waggled an eyebrow at her, expecting her hackles to rise again at his innuendo, but this time she didn't take the bait.

Instead, Emma cocked her head to the side, and the expression of challenge returned to her face. She practically purred at Killian, “Do you then? And what, Mr. Jones, makes you so sure you know what I would enjoy? Think you know me so well?” She drew out the last word and flicked her tongue against her top teeth on the final “L”. _It must be the drinks_ , Emma thought. She felt as if the sensible part of her had detached and was floating above watching and judging the rest of her from the outside. _Shut up, Emma. Shut up. Shut up!_

Killian's mouth fell open slightly at the unexpected turn in the conversation, but he recovered quickly. He was not one to shy from a challenge. “As a matter of fact I do. You're something of an open book to me. I'm actually quite perceptive, Swan.” He tapped two fingers to his temple to emphasize the point. Emma raised her eyebrows dubiously, but he continued. “You're guarded – you have your shields up nearly all the time. This leads me to the notion that you've been hurt before, probably more than once. That, combined with your vague answer when I asked if you had someone in your life, makes me think that, uh, 'Mr. Complicated' is someone _you_ perceive as unattainable. To love someone you cannot have is _safe_. You'd never truly have to open yourself up to the person. He cannot reject you, because you've already...” he swirled a hand in the air as if it could catch the word he sought “...disqualified yourself in advance.” Killian scooted towards her, and softened his voice, “But to answer your original question, what I think you would enjoy – what would truly make you happy – is to let go of your shields. To trust. To love and to _be_ loved.”

Emma couldn't look at Killian. _How could he possibly - ?_ She kept her eyes trained on her now-empty mug. She didn't realize how close he'd moved to her until she felt his fingertips on her chin raising her face to his. “Swan, tell me the truth. Is the man, this Mr. Complicated, leading you on? If he hasn't shown interest in you, then he's a fool, but perhaps at least an honest one. If he's stringing you along...” Killian shut his eyes for a moment and exhaled forcefully. “Well, then he's a far greater fool. I know that type of man, and they are users. They use women for political connection, for sex, as a prize, and to stroke their own egos.”

Emma cast her eyes down, suddenly blinking back tears. Killian still held her chin tenderly in in one hand. His voice was barely above a whisper now, “Emma, look at me. _Please_.” She opened her eyes and locked them onto his. His breath caught at the beauty and pain he saw in their green depths, a swirling green with splashes of blue and gold like the ocean after a storm. “Emma, you are no man's mere prize. Or pawn. And you sure as _hell_ are no man's bit on the side. You deserve to be someone's _everything_.”

Before she could stop herself, Emma grabbed the front of Killian's shirt and kissed him fiercely. He was initially stunned, but it took less than a second before he was returning the kiss, one of his hands threading through her hair, the other grasping her waist to pull her closer. Emma's sensible side was screaming in the back of her mind, but as their lips pressed feverishly against one another, the screaming was drowned out by the pounding of her heart and the rush of blood in her ears. Killian's hand dropped from her hair and he hooked it beneath her knees, using it as well as an arm behind her back to scoop her into his lap. Emma released his shirt front and twined both her arms around his neck, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss.

She couldn't think anymore, but her senses exploded with sensation: the warmth of his lips, the scratch of his stubble against her face, softness of his hair in her fingers, the sound of his ragged breathing, the lingering taste of cinnamon liqueur on his tongue. The loud _“CLUNK”_ of her mug hitting the floor.

 _Wait, what?_ _OH, GOD!_ And the spell was broken. _Oh, god, oh, god, oh, god. What am I doing? What have I done!_ Emma's eyes flew open and she broke the kiss in panic. Killian's eyes were still closed, a thoroughly dazed expression on his face. “Emma, that was...” The smile that had been blooming on his lips withered as soon as he saw her expression of terror.

“A one time thing.” Emma was already scrambling off the couch and reaching for her purse. She trembled with remorse when she turned and saw the confusion and pain in Killian's eyes, but her fear consumed her. “Killian, I... I have to go. It's late, and I've got to pick Ruby up from the airport in the morning.”

“Swan, don't run... _please.”_ Killian stood, but made no move to stop her.

“I'm sorry, I just...” Emma opened the door to leave. She shook her head, and gave him what she hoped passed as a friendly smile, “Good night, mate.” She ducked out of apartment 504 and shut the door behind her before she could see Killian's reaction.

She never knew how he clutched his heart at the word “mate” as if a dagger had been twisted there. She didn't see him raise his hand absentmindedly to his lips as he walked to the door and locked it after her. She only knew that that night, even after everything that had happened, he still tapped out their usual “Good night” on her wall.

He never knew that after she tapped back, she ran to Ruby's empty bedroom so she wouldn't be overheard and cried herself to sleep.

 


	5. Do I Wanna Know?

The next morning, Emma awoke in Ruby's bed completely wrecked. _I've ruined everything._ She didn't bother with showers or makeup, in fact, she judiciously avoided the mirror. She threw on a pair of jeans she found on her floor and an old law school t-shirt, and pulled a ball cap over her messy hair. She made the drive to the airport more or less on auto-pilot. As she pulled in the lane for “arrivals” she marveled that she'd managed not to get in a car accident on the way to there.

Ruby exited the terminal wheeling her lipstick red suitcase, and looking considerably more chipper than Emma felt. After stowing her carry-on in the trunk, she practically bounded into the car. Emma could see that Ruby was about to burst into some fantastic story, but when Ruby got a look at Emma's puffy red eyes, her demeanor changed immediately. She went from cheerleader to assassin in about two seconds flat. “What happened? Who do I need to kill? I'll gut the sonnuvabitch.”

Emma couldn't help but smile (at least as much as she was capable of smiling at that moment) at her roommate's protective instincts. Ruby and Granny, and more recently Elsa, had been the only people in Emma's life who ever treated her like she mattered. It eased some of the fear and ache inside her to know that her friend was there, ready to spring to her side.

“You can call off the dogs on this one, honey. I did this to myself.” Emma put the car in gear and began to pull away from the curb. She sniffled miserably.

Ruby picked up Emma's hand and gave it a squeeze of solidarity. “You sure you're okay to drive?”

“Yeah.” Emma sniffed again and wiped her nose with a drive-thru napkin from her stash in the door well. “Yeah, I'm good. Did you have some errands to run while we're out or...?”

“Just one.” Ruby took in a deep breath and sighed. “Let's go to Granny's and you can tell me all about this over a big stack of pancakes and the greasiest mess of hash-browns she can fry up.”

Emma's eyes began to mist again. “Thank you,” was all she could squeak out.

-x-

They drove to Granny's Diner in companionable silence. That is, relative silence. Ruby had insisted on some musical distraction and switched on the radio. Emma, consumed by her own thoughts, was barely aware of even what station was playing much less what song.

When they walked through the diner's front door, Granny Lucas took one look at Emma's tear-stained face and immediately enveloped her in a deep smothering hug. Hugging Granny was like falling into a big stack of lumpy pillows while wrapped in a blanket fresh out of the dryer. Since it was still the breakfast shift, Granny's hug was also redolent of biscuit dough, coffee and maple syrup. It was home and it was heaven, and Emma didn't have the strength to pretend to be strong right then. She just let the comfort of Granny and the diner wash over her.

Granny finally leaned away and slid one hand from Emma's back to hold Emma by the elbow and pointed sternly and motherly at her with the other. “Emma Ruth, I'm gonna get us a big pot of coffee and you a big stack of pancakes. You go sit your skinny rear in that booth over there...” the pointing finger now aimed at a booth by the window, “...and when I get back with the grub, you can tell us all about it.” Granny gave the skinny rear in question a small pat or two - the way only little old ladies can get away with – and shooed Emma and Ruby towards the booth, where they dutifully sat down.

_Emma Ruth..._ No one else called Emma that. Ever. In fact, it was Granny who had decided that Emma needed a middle name. Granny had more or less adopted Emma as a second granddaughter from the day that Emma hired on as a waitress at the diner. She fussed over and loved on Emma and Ruby to no end – really more like a mother than a grandmother.

Ruby and Emma had both been in need of a mother when Mabel Lucas took each of them in. Ruby had never known her father. Her mother had run out on her when she was barely a teenager. Ruby never knew the real reason her mother had vanished, though she invented a slew of glamorous explanations for it: her mother was an international spy working on a long-term undercover mission, or had witnessed a mob hit and had to go into witness protection, or was a werewolf and had to leave to avoid infecting her daughter with lycanthropy. Whatever the true reason had been (and Ruby suspected that Granny knew it), Granny had welcomed her daughter's daughter into her home with open arms.

Emma had been in the foster system her entire young life. She never knew anything of her parents other than they left her on the side of the road when she was just a few days old, wrapped in a blanket embroidered with the name _Emma_. Just Emma. The day she interviewed with Granny for the waitressing job she so desperately needed to help pay for law school, the old matron's keen stare and hard expression had literally made Emma squirm in her seat. She must have passed whatever test Granny's silent scrutiny held, though, for Granny had narrowed her eyes at Emma and asked simply, “You got family, girl?” When Emma blanched and replied, “No,” Granny nodded at her and said, “You do now. You start tomorrow at 6:00 a.m. Don't be late.” And that was that. After twenty-two years of being an orphan, Emma finally had a family.

Ruby and Emma got as much mothering as they could possibly handle and then some from Granny. This included getting fussed AT as much as fussed over. As all mother's do, when Granny fussed AT them, she hollered out their full legal names. “ _Ruby Nell Lucas,_ what in God's name are you wearing?” was a fairly common example. Just simply yelling “Emma Swan” across the diner was not sufficiently chastising for Granny's taste. So, she'd decided that Emma needed a middle name, and had, for reasons known only to her, chosen “Ruth”.

A few minutes after she'd left, Granny shuffled from behind the diner's counter over to the booth where Emma and Ruby sat, and plunked three mugs and a large carafe of hot coffee onto the table. Emma poured herself a cup and drank deeply, as if the steaming liquid was the Elixir of Life. “One of the kitchen boys will bring the food out in a minute,” Granny scooched onto the bench seat next to Ruby and turned her ice blue eyes on Emma, “Now. You tell me everything.” She punctuated the statement with a rap of her knuckles against the Formica tabletop.

Emma nodded obediently, and began to relate the events of the night before. Killian's insistence that he cook Emma dinner to save her from another night of diner take-out (Granny pursed her lips and crossed her arms disapprovingly at that one). Killian telling her that she had options. Killian making her her favorite hot chocolate because Ruby had mentioned once a week ago that Emma liked it. Killian reading her like a book. Killian warning her about the kind of man who would use her, and telling her that she was worthy of being someone's everything. How she'd kissed him. How she'd run away.

“I just... I've ruined everything. We were _friends_ , and it was _good._ And now I don't even know how I'll be able to look him in the eye. He's probably hurt or angry or thinks I'm some kind of nut job or all of the above.” Emma ran her hands over her face in exasperation. “Why couldn't I have left well enough alone? Just let us be... you know, _mates_?” She tried (rather pathetically) to imitate Killian's British accent on the last word.

Ruby sighed compassionately, “Oh, Emma. You're asking the wrong question. What you need to come to grips with is _why did you run away_?” The pancakes arrived, and while they smelled divine, Emma found she no longer had much of an appetite. She picked at them listlessly as Ruby continued. “I mean, mates? Seriously? I've been around you guys. There is only one kind of 'mating' you should be doing with that man.”

“ _Ruby Nell Lucas!_ ” Granny interjected, “Not everyone is as fixated on _mating_ as you seem to be.”

Ruby was livid, but managed to bite back her indignation. Instead she raised a hand in a “Stop” gesture at Granny and said without looking at the older woman, “Since my friend here is in pain, I'm gonna let that one go for now.” She shook her head and exhaled loudly as if venting steam. Turning her attention back to Emma, she said, “But my point stands. Honey, why did you run? You can't let Neal Cassidy keep you dangling on the hook forever. Killian was right about the type of man Neal is and he's never even met him.”

Emma set her fork down on her plate and let her head loll to one side. “I am not on Neal Cassidy's hook.” The words rang hollow even in her own ears.

“And speaking of hooks,” Ruby went on, “it isn't exactly fair of you to keep Killian on the hook either.”

This time Emma was taken aback. “Killian Jones is NOT on my hook!”

Ruby shot Emma an incredulous look, “Are you kidding, girl? Call Elsa or Victor or Graham if you don't believe me. That man is so far on the hook, he is friggin' Captain Hook.”

Emma gave Ruby a flat stare and pointed for emphasis, “We are _not_ calling him that. That is _not_ his new nickname.”

Ruby cocked her head to the side and smiled tightly, “Too late. It's a thing now.” Emma dropped her face into her hands in resignation. Ruby reached out to pat the top of Emma's down-turned head consolingly, and her tone became softer and more earnest, “Hey, he's hardly kept his feelings for you a secret, at least not to anyone with a functional pair of eyes. You tell him you just want to be 'mates', but then you're snuggling on the couch together all day, and you agree to have a date with him over at his place...”

Emma was about to protest the use of the word “date”, when she remembered her conversation with Killian right after dinner. _Don't think I didn't recognize this was a set up... And yet, you said yes..._

“You have to admit it sends a bit of a mixed message.” Ruby concluded, not unkindly.

Emma winced. Ruby was right. “Oh God, I'm _horrible_!” Emma dropped her head towards the table top, her forehead landing in the crook of her arm with a soft thud. Her elbow knocked the ball cap she wore askew in the process.

“Emma Ruth, you are not horrible.” At Granny's words, Emma turned her face so she could look at Granny, but kept her head resting on her arm on the table. “But you _are_ a damn fool.” Emma's expression turned from wan to doleful. “I love you like you were my own blood, Emma honey, but you are a mule. A stubborn, skittish mule who kicks and runs whenever anything spooks her in the slightest. I know exactly why you ran away, and I'll hazard a guess your young man knows, too. From what you just told us, he sounds like he has you pretty well figured.

“You got scared as hell because you can't get it out of your mule-headed brain that the people you let yourself care about are going to cut and run on you. You think you don't matter enough, aren't worth enough for anyone to stick around. Well, girl - you've got two people sitting right here at this table who can tell you without a doubt, that that isn't so.

“I don't know about this Cassidy fellow except bits and pieces that Ruby's told me, _such as -”_ Granny raised an eyebrow and lowered her chin, leaning forward on her elbows for emphasis, “- that he's _engaged to someone already._ You may be telling yourself it's just a harmless crush you have on him. Let me tell you, Emma Ruth,” she pushed back off of the table and leaned against the back of the bench with a sigh, “a crush is not harmless if it holds you back. If it reinforces in your mind that just the idea – the fantasy – of having love is all that you deserve. If it prevents you from putting yourself out there and risking your heart for something _real_. Now, I'm not telling you to go and throw yourself into this Killian's arms -”

“Ooh – ooh! I am!” Ruby raised her hand as though she was competing for teacher's pet.

Granny cut her eyes at Ruby, but continued, “- but it sounds to me like the young man understands something very important: that you, Emma Swan, deserve to love and be loved.”

Emma lifted her head from the table, got up, tucked her hair back under her cap and walked around to the other side of the booth. She leaned over and wrapped her arm around Granny's neck in a side hug, her head falling to rest on the top of Granny's soft gray hair. Granny caught Emma around the waist and gave her a squeeze in return. Emma sat back down on her side of the table, her chin quivering slightly with emotion. “I love you guys.” She smiled as she reached across the table and gave Ruby's hands a squeeze.

Emma leaned back in her seat. “But what do I do now? Like I said... I've ruined everything.”

Ruby raised her eyebrows, “Um... what happened to the throwing-yourself-into-his-arms idea, because I could totally support that.”

Granny rolled her eyes, but her voice was warm. “Emma Ruth, last time I checked you were a grown adult. One with a law degree no less. Just go talk to the man. Use your words. I think 'I'm sorry' might be good ones to start with.”

Emma took a deep breath. “You're right. I owe him an apology for running out, if nothing else. Time to put on my big girl panties and deal with it.”

“And if you're lucky,” Ruby added with a wink, “Killian can help your right back out of those panties.”

“ _Ruby Nell!_ ” Granny gave Ruby a good swat on the arm.

Emma laughed – a genuine laugh with a tiny hint of a snort at the end. _Whatever may happen with Killian tonight, at least I've got these two._

-x-

Emma was nervous. No, nervous wasn't the word. She was scared witless. So scared, in fact, that it barely registered with her that Ruby was being cagey as hell. When the two friends left Granny's Diner together, Ruby had coerced Emma into promising she would talk to Killian that very night. This wasn't so odd in and of itself – of course, Ruby would want Emma to act before Emma could talk herself back out of it. The strange bit was how fixated Ruby seemed to be on having Emma out of the apartment and making amends with Killian by no later than 7:00 p.m., as though that particular hour was a significant deadline. It pricked at the back of Emma's mind, but she wrote it off for the time being. She and Ruby were both attorneys after all, and attorneys loved nothing more than a good deadline, mostly as a thing to wave at fondly as it flew by.

Now, however, it was 6:45 p.m. and both roommates seemed to be starting to fluster. Emma was fussing with her hair for the umpteenth time. Ruby paced like a caged animal, and checked her appearance on every reflective surface in the apartment that she passed. Emma emerged from her bedroom – not wanting to shout across the apartment for fear of being overheard – and attempted to negotiate, “You know, this is ridiculous. I'm sure he doesn't want to talk to me right now. How do we even know he's home?”

Ruby snapped her head towards Emma, “His truck is in the parking lot, I can see it from the balcony. No excuses. Tick-tock.” She tapped at an imaginary watch on her wrist for emphasis.

Emma narrowed her eyes at her roommate taking in her appearance, “What's with you? Hot date or something?” Ruby always dressed spectacularly when she went out for the evenings, but this was not her usual fare. The dress wasn't exactly modest, but it seemed to convey “first date” more than “one night stand” - tailored more to impress than arouse. _Is she actually...blushing? Can't be._

Ruby scowled. “I have _plans_ and we'll leave it at that. Stop deflecting and get your ass over there or I'm going to go knock down that wall you guys tap on every night. Yes, I can hear you.”

Emma winced, mortified. “Oh.” After a beat to let the flush pass from her face, Emma shook herself and bounced on her toes a few times, winding up her courage. “Okay, I'm ready.” She sighed uncertainly, and made a game show hostess gesture at her own outfit and appearance. “ _Am_ I ready? Will I...? Will he...?” Emma flailed her hands, not really sure what she was trying to say or do other than stall for time.

“You're gorgeous. Get out.” Ruby practically pushed Emma out the door of apartment 502. She made a kissy face at her roommate as she shut the door, firmly but not cruelly, in Emma's face before Emma could protest further.

-x-

In the hallway, Emma took a few deep breaths and did a bit more bouncing on her toes in an attempt to keep her nerve from failing. She was still facing in the direction of her own door, her attention completely inside her own head rehearsing the conversation that she was trying to avoid. She wasn't conscious of her bouncing and gesturing or really anything else in the outside world, until -

“Swan? What the devil are you doing dancing around in the hallway?”

Emma jumped like a frightened cat. “Geez! Beware of lurking pirates!” She came back to earth and put a hand to her heart to steady herself.

“I had just exited my own domicile, and found you here doing... whatever it is you're doing. I'd hardly call that lurking.” Killian leaned against the wall and crossed his arms, brows furrowed. “And you have not answered my question: What are you doing out here?”

“Are you leaving?” Emma asked, both crestfallen and hopeful at the same time. _I really hope my voice didn't sound as squeaky out loud as it just did in my head._

“I was on my way out, yes. Graham and Victor are back in town this weekend, and I was going to meet Graham at the pub for a pint,” he explained. Something prickled in the back of Emma's mind at that, but Killian went on, “And again, you have not answered my original question.” Killian's expression was inscrutable.

“I...wanted to talk to you.” Emma said slowly, fighting the urge to use Killian's plans as an excuse to run. “Can Graham spare you for a few minutes?” Killian narrowed his eyes. _God, he's so guarded now. I wish he'd just make some stupid innuendo or something, so I'd know he doesn't hate me,_ Emma thought.

Finally, Killian nodded. He stepped aside from the still-open door and gestured for her to enter the apartment. “I expect he can entertain himself for a bit. Come in, Swan.”

_Not 'love', not 'mate', not even 'Emma'. Just 'Swan'._ Emma felt a small stabbing pain in her chest. She walked haltingly into Killian's apartment. She started to move toward the couch to sit down, then remembered that the events on that couch were exactly why she was here. She started to move to the table, but a similar memory of Killian leaning in by her ear and whispering, of him kneeling before her and telling her she had options, gave her pause. She finally opted to simply stand there right in the middle of the living room. She allowed herself to look at Killian's face, and saw that he was eyeing her curiously.

The sheer awkwardness got to her, and she blurted without preamble, “I have it on good authority that I'm an ass.” Killian's brows shot up, but she barreled onward, tucking her hair behind her ears nervously, “Actually, the word used was 'mule,' I think, but the point is that I _am_ one. I am _so_ sorry for how I behaved last night, Killian, you've been nothing but -”

“Don't fret, lass. It's forgotten.” Killian smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. “Now, since you've done your duty and apologized, you're free to go.”

The stabbing sensation in Emma's chest sharpened. “Killian, that's not all I -”

“Emma, please.” He turned his face away from her, staring fixedly at some point in the middle distance. “I can't stand here and listen to you ask me if we can still be friends. I don't want to be your _mate_ , Emma Swan.” His eyes met hers, but they held none of their usual warmth.

Emma should have been daunted by his seemingly cold words. Really, she should have. But it had taken so much out of her just to get herself here – 'here' in this man's apartment ready to bare her soul, and 'here' emotionally so that her soul was finally ready to be opened to someone. And the guy had the nerve to interrupt her! Twice! Emma was pissed.

“Good!” She huffed. “Because I don't want to be your 'mate' either, Killian Jones!” That got his attention, but Emma soldiered on, “I actually came over here to humble myself and ask you on a real live date, dammit!" Without thinking she was moving across the floor towards him. She stopped right in front of him, glaring defiantly into his shocked face, and stabbed him in the chest with an angry pointer finger. “But, YOU can't seem to let me finish a friggin' sentence!” _Whoa... where did that come from? Am I panting? I think I'm panting. Focus._

Killian threw his hands up in surrender and laughed. “I yield! I yield, love, you've bested me!”

Emma made a small, but determined frown, suddenly self-conscious. “Okay, then.” She dropped her finger from his chest, took a step back, and seemingly became fascinated with her own shoes. “So...”

Killian reached out and took her hand in his. Emma hesitantly raised her head to look him in the eyes, and there it was again. The warmth, the _hope_ , shining out at her. He raised a cocky eyebrow and smiled a smug half-smile. “So, am I to understand that the oh-so-guarded Miss Swan is finally ready to lower her shields and take a leap of faith?”

Emma smiled back, “I don't know if I'm ready to leap just yet. But I'm ready to take a step.” With that, she took one step forward, raised up on her toes, and kissed Killian softly on the lips. Just for a second. As she pulled away, she saw his eyes close and his other hand drift absently to his mouth to trace the path her own lips had just taken.

“I believe I like steps, love.” Killian opened his eyes, crinkled his nose and nodded in confirmation. “Steps are good.” Emma beamed at him, and Killian continued, “I'm sorry to have interrupted you earlier, it's just that I'm constantly on the cusp of trying to kiss you - an impulse I have been striving to suppress. Until now.” He released her hand and leaned down, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her firmly against him. Emma's hands of their own accord slid up his chest to rest with the heel of her palms against his collarbone, and her thumbs barely grazing his jawline. “It's about bloody time, love. Simmer down and pucker up.” Killian pressed his mouth to hers, effectively cutting off any potential protestations or snappy comebacks from Emma.

For Emma's part, she couldn't have thought of one at that moment anyway. She couldn't have thought of her own name, for that matter. If their first kiss had been an explosion of fireworks, this kiss was a slow burn, a crackling fireplace. It warmed Emma to her core. She let her entire body relax against him, threading her fingers absently through his hair. Emma sighed against Killian's lips, and he pressed her even closer.

At some point, it must have occurred to him that there was more of Emma to explore than just her mouth, and his lips moved to her cheek, her jaw, her neck... and Emma giggled. Killian paused, lips still pressed to the pulse point of her throat. When he spoke, the vibration of his voice sent little chills across Emma's skin. “Ticklish, love?”

“No. Well... I mean, kind of, yeah... but, that's not what...” She was still having a difficult time keeping a coherent train of thought with his breath on her neck. She tried again, voice teasing, “I suppose this all means that you agree to go on a date with me?”

Killian raised his head slowly and touched his forehead to hers. Emma closed her eyes, and raised her face to nuzzle her nose against his. “Emma Swan, I have been yours from the very first moment that we touched,” he breathed. “Yes, I would be honored to go on a date with you.”

Emma was speechless with emotion. No one had ever spoken to her like he did, had ever treated her like she was something to be cherished. That he had believed she was not only worthwhile, but a treasure from the very first moment that they...

_Hang on a minute._ Emma's eyes popped open. She pulled back from him and cocked her head to one side, pursing her lips. “From the first moment we touched?”

“Aye.” Killian replied warily.

“That moment being the time that my _ass_ bumped against your _groin_ in my kitchen the day we met?” Emma's voice was flat.

“Aye.” Killian repressed a grin, but his eyes danced. “Your delightful rear end left quite an indelible impression on me.”

“Ugh.” Emma let her head loll backward. “You are incorrigible.”

When her gaze again met his, he was clearly unapologetic. He bit his lower lip and crinkled his nose at her wickedly. “And you obviously hate it.”

He pulled her close aiming to kiss her again, but she stopped him with a finger on his lips. “Aren't you supposed to be meeting Graham somewhere?”

Killian opened his mouth just enough to playfully nip at her finger tip, and she quickly pulled her hand away. He began to resume his previous efforts. “Graham can sod off, I intend to be busy,” he said with an evil grin.

Emma pressed her palms against his chest and turned her head to the side, but she was smiling. “Hey, when I said 'date', I meant an actual scheduled, planned, go somewhere and do something date. Not 'let's make out on your couch right this second.'”

Killian relented and released her. He tilted his head and narrowed his eyes. “Are you sure? Because I could've sworn I heard...” he said, tapping at his ear. He pouted a bit at Emma's unamused expression. “Alright then, darling, you can pick me up tomorrow at 7:00.”

Emma chuckled. “Okay. Wear something pretty for me.” She gave him a wink.

The look he gave her in return could have turned ice straight into steam. “And for you, of course, love – clothing is entirely optional.”

Just like the first moment that they touched, Emma blushed from the tips of her toes to the roots of her hair. She didn't try to hide it this time. She just let him have his little victory smirk.

He walked her to her door, and she gave him one last chaste peck on the lips. “See you tomorrow, Killian.”

“See you tomorrow, Emma.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I was listening to the Arctic Monkeys today... May have tossed a song lyric in here somewhere. Next chapter will be Killian and Emma's date! Yay!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Sorry this took so forever to post! Here's a nice long chapter of Emma & Killian first date-y, back story goodness. Hope you like!

When Emma awoke Sunday morning, Ruby was nowhere to be found. _Maybe she's on a doughnut run? That'd be sweet._ Remembering how Ruby had come home with Killian in tow on her last doughnut retrieval mission, Emma walked back to her bathroom and freshened up a bit while the coffee brewed. She emerged minutes later with brushed teeth, a washed face and hair pulled into a neat ponytail. _Don't want to look like I tried TOO hard._ Before returning to the living room, she also grabbed one of her nicer bras from her dresser and put it on under her tank top. No sweater this time. _A little flash of shoulder and a lacy strap might just do him some good..._

After nearly an hour passed with no sign of her roommate, Emma began to worry.  _Come to think of it, I never heard her come home last night._ Right as Emma had retrieved her cell from her purse to call Ruby, she heard the sound of keys in the door. When the two met each other's eyes, they both spoke at the same time:

“You're up early!”

“I was getting worried!”

They both paused for a moment and an expression crossed Ruby's face that Emma had never seen there before.  _She looks guilty!_ Emma spoke again first, “Why do you look like the Walk of Shame personified?” She really did: hair disheveled, eye makeup smeared a tad, still wearing the clothes from the night before, and carrying her high heels in one hand.

“Please. Shame is for the sexually repressed.” Ruby snarked, regaining her usual composure and unceremoniously tossing her shoes on the floor. “I just stayed over at the guy's place last night instead of coming home. I was _hoping_ you and Killian would be, ahem, using the apartment and I didn't want to interrupt.”

The excuse was plausible enough, but a buzzer was sounding in Emma's head. _LY-ING! LY-ING! LY-ING!_ Emma narrowed her eyes at her roommate, but before she could press the issue, Ruby continued, “Speaking of which... NEWS! I MUST have news of how your little conversation with Killian went last night. Please be as graphic as possible.”

Emma laughed, the warm memories of last night at Killian's pushing aside her suspicions about Ruby's behavior. She looked down coyly and smiled to herself. “It was good.” She shrugged one shoulder, still smiling like an idiot.

“Graphic. As. Possible.” Ruby wagged a commanding finger at Emma as she sauntered towards the kitchen and the caffeinated relief of the coffee pot.

“Okay, so I went over there to apologize and I was really _trying_ to, you know, prostrate myself – _metaphorically_ ” she emphasized this word to lower the eyebrow Ruby had raised, “and... he just kept interrupting me, which you know I hate. So...I kind of... yelled at him?”

“WHAT!?!” Ruby interjected, then waved her hand in the air to indicate that Emma should continue, “No, no. Never mind that, you're still grinning like a goof, so this must have a happy ending. Proceed.” Ruby sat down delicately in her arm chair and nursed at her coffee mug.

“Well, anyway, we both laughed, and he apparently forgives me because there was some kissing after that. Some REALLY nice kissing. And innuendo. And... we have a date tonight. A real one.”

Ruby squealed in delight, and stood setting her coffee cup roughly on the side table, sloshing a good bit of it on the rug in the process. Emma grinned excitedly and stood, too, hugging her friend. They both plopped back down on the couch, and Emma continued. “Now I just have to plan a perfect evening for us... and I'm clueless. Do I do the fancy restaurant thing? You know: candlelight, Italian food, red wine, romantic ambiance?”

“ _God_ , no!” Ruby looked scandalized. “If you were trying to get into a _woman's_ pants, maybe, but Killian is all man. Besides, let's look at this from a potential make-out perspective.” Emma rolled her eyes, but Ruby pressed on, “Candlelight is good – mood lighting and all, and it's definitely flattering. Italian is problematic, though. Too much garlic. Garlic breath lowers the make-out quotient. So does red wine – I mean, who wants to make out with someone with purple teeth?”

“You have hooking up down to a science, don't you?” Emma asked, impressed.

“I'm going to write a book someday, but, let's focus. This isn't totally a nice-to-meet-you first date. Y'all are pretty familiar with each other already, so we don't need ALL the first date cliches...” Ruby looked skyward and tapped her chin thoughtfully with a blood-red fingernail. “I say go for some kind of pub, live music or karaoke is optional, pool table is required. He's an innuendo guy, so playing a game of pool gives him LOTS of opportunity to be handsy and say inappropriate things. Stick with beer, white wine, or liquor. Low-cut top. Short skirt. Eff-me pumps. That should do it.” She looked back at Emma and grinned, pleased with herself. “If that doesn't have him eating out of your -”

“ _RUBY!_ ”

“I was gonna say HAND. Eating out of your _hand_ by the end of the night, then I have no hope for you, Emma.”

Emma raised her eyebrows and shook her head, incredulous. “You're a mad scientist. How do you come up with this stuff?”

Ruby smiled wolfishly, “We all have our gifts...”

-x-

6:50 p.m. Emma had spent the better part of the afternoon scrolling through Yelp to find just the right spot for the date, abiding by Ruby's game plan. She decided on a pub in uptown called The Gingerbread Man. It boasted an expansive beer selection, which she knew Killian would approve, had pool tables, and a decent looking menu. There was a band scheduled to play later in the evening. Emma had never heard of them, but maybe if the conversation became strained or awkward, some loud music would provide good cover.

Now, looking in the mirror, Emma gave her hair a final fluff and readjusted her cleavage for maximum impact. Emma usually wore courtroom blacks and neutrals or primary “power” colors like brick red or cobalt blue. Tonight was different. Tonight was about lowering her shields, so Emma chose to wear pink – not a bright Barbie-doll bubble gum pink, but a soft dusty rose. Taking Ruby's earlier advice into consideration, she had selected a sleeveless top with a low square neckline that made a perfect picture frame for her clavicle and decolletage. In lieu of the recommended short skirt and pumps, Emma had opted for her best tush-enhancing jeans (flap pockets on the back to give a little more curve), and strappy heels. She took a deep breath, and nodded at her reflection approvingly. _I can do this._

As she crossed the living room to the front door, Ruby gave her a cat-call, “Ow-woo! Honey, you look amazing!”

Emma shushed her self-consciously. “Hey, thin walls! He might hear you,” Emma hissed.

“Good. He should be prepared for the hotness that's about to knock on his door.” Ruby rejoined. She raised her voice and turned her face in the direction of apartment 504, “You hear that, Killian! Incoming hotness. Threat level – imminent!”

Emma closed her eyes, flushing all the way down her chest. “Really? Must you?”

“It's my civic duty. Now go, go, go, go, go! The blush is cute, it matches your shirt. Work with it.”

Emma grabbed her purse and hurried to the door. As it shut behind her, she heard Ruby say, “And don't you DARE come home tonight!”

-x-

Emma marched straight up to Killian's door and knocked with as much confidence as she could muster. Assuming he had heard Ruby, which was a safe assumption, he would know she was “incoming” and Emma was not about to get caught in the hallway talking to herself again. Her heart fluttered like a hummingbird in her chest as the door slowly opened.

Then there he was, so handsome Emma's brain could barely process the whole image of him at once. _Blue._ Blue eyes, navy sport coat, pale blue shirt, jeans hugging the muscles of his thighs. _Black._ Dark hair, inky eye lashes, dark stubble, flash of chest hair. _Silver._ Bit of chain disappearing beneath his collar, heavy rings on each hand.

Emma had taken a step forward to knock on the door and was in the process of bringing her forward foot back to the meet the other, but when her eyes landed on Killian, her foot forgot what it was doing. Her knee turned inward and her poor foot was left to dangle with the toe tracing haphazard circles on the floor. She was painfully aware that she wasn't speaking, but couldn't quite manage to do anything about it.

The only thing making her feel better about this state of affairs was the fact that Killian seemed to have lost his powers of speech as well. He'd had his usual smirk on his face when the door opened, but when their eyes had met, his eyes had popped open and become unfocused, his jaw had slackened. He was now still blinking dumbly at her, slowly shaking his head as if to make sure the apparition in front of him wasn't going to vanish.

Seeing him that way helped Emma to regain her composure, and her foot again found the floor. Even so, a giddy “Hi,” was all she could manage.

At the sound of her voice, Killian refocused on her face and smiled broadly, “Hi yourself, lass.”

Emma stepped toward him, but turned her body to the side. She extended her elbow to him as an offer of escort in the same manner that he had done for her at his housewarming party the day they'd met. “Shall we, love?” she asked, giving him a conspiratorial wink.

Killian chuckled, making a point of admiring the now-visible profile of her derriere. His voice was dark and his eyes full of fire as he replied with a crinkle of his nose, “Oh, yes. We shall.” He reached out to her, but rather than taking the offered arm, he closed his hand around hers.

Emma smiled down at their joined hands, as they walked together to the parking lot. It felt just as natural – as _right_ – to be holding his hand as it had at the party that first night. But as she gently laced their fingers together, she felt something more this time. Her shields were lowered tonight. She wasn't blocking him out anymore. So along with the warmth from before, there was a certain electrical current flowing between them. Where there had been sparks before, there was now a completed circuit when they touched. Emma felt the tingles of it all over her skin, and shivered a bit involuntarily.

Killian felt her slight tremor and paused, turning his face to her. “You all right, love? Want to borrow my jacket?”

“Thanks, but no,” Emma said, smilingly dreamily at him, “No, I'm good. Really good.” She bobbed her head in the direction of the stairwell. “Let's go.”

-x-

They didn't talk much on the drive. Emma had told Killian where to go. He knew the place and seemed appreciative of her choice. Then Killian had turned the radio to some classic rock station, and they'd both sung along with most of the songs, laughing at each other's overly dramatic delivery. Emma was pleasantly surprised by the richness of Killian's singing voice. It was apparent he had some talent, even though he was clearly just goofing around at the time. _Note to self: next date WILL involve karaoke._

When they arrived at the pub, it was early enough in the evening that the place wasn't busy yet. It was a pleasantly warm spring evening, so they opted to sit outside on the deck to enjoy the weather and the last fading rays of sunset. They found a mostly secluded table, and sat down across from each other.

Moments later when a waitress came by to take their drink orders, Emma found herself in need of a bit of liquid courage. She crossed her arms under her chest and leaned forward so her elbows rested on the table. Killian's eyes glazed over and he couldn't quite make himself raise his glance to her face, even when Emma spoke to him, “What do you say, pirate? Join me in a shot of rum?”

“What, love?” He blinked a few times and finally looked up at the waitress. “Right. Rum. Yes. Rum is good.” He nodded vaguely and the waitress left to get their shots.

Emma pressed her lips together to suppress a giggle as Killian's eyes drifted back to her cleavage. “Something wrong, Jones?”

Killian raised his eyes to hers (finally) and narrowed them. “Question, Swan. Did a certain roommate of yours assist in the selection of your attire for this evening?”

Emma leaned back in her seat, giving the poor guy a break. “I can neither confirm nor deny that Ruby made certain suggestions to me regarding the scripting of this evening, including wardrobe. I may or may not have used a few of them.”

“Well that's hardly fair, Swan. I feel like the four of you are ganging up on me.” Killian's tone was offended, but there was the beginning of a smirk was forming on his face.

“Four?” Emma tilted her head, puzzled.

“Well, you and Ruby and then, of course...” Killian gestured with two fingers at Emma's breasts, “... _those_ two. I'd say it was bad form, but your form, darling, is by far the loveliest I've seen.” He lowered his chin and his voice as he delivered the last line, and fixed her with a stare that was molten gold. Emma once again found herself blushing furiously. Killian seemed to take her flush as a victory and continued unabashed, “Have I told you how beautiful you are in pink?” His voice and expression made it clear he was not referring to the shade of her shirt.

Emma was spared having to come up with a witty comeback, by the return of the waitress with two shots of rum. She raised her glass to Killian and asked, “What should we drink to?”

Killian paused thoughtfully for a moment, then raised his glass as well, “To bottle openers. Best wing man a bloke could have.”

Emma laughed and clinked her tiny glass to his, “To bottle openers! Cheers!”

They both downed the dark liquid in one gulp. “So...” Emma began.

“So...?” Killian echoed.

“So how do we do this?” Emma gestured between the two of them. “I mean... we sort of already know each other, so it's not like an I-just-met-you first date. Do we go through the awkward small talk? Do we...?” Emma floundered. _Oh, God. I'm babbling. Someone stop me._

“No worries, love. It's just you and me – just like any other time we talked with each other.” He paused briefly, narrowing his eyes and tilting his head in thought. “I've an idea.” Killian stood and picked up his chair, moving it over to Emma's side of the round table. He removed his jacket, arranged it on the back of the chair, and cuffed his sleeves to reveal the dark hair and corded muscle of his forearms. He settled down next to her, his right knee brushing against her left under the table, and he took her hand in his. “See, love? Just like we're loafing about on the couch at your place.” He gestured with his free hand to the rest of the patio. “We have a reality show to watch if we want.” He indicated the other patrons. “Or maybe put on the radio later.” He nodded towards the small stage where the band was setting up. “Or if you're up for it, we can have a chat.” He turned his face back to Emma and gave her a small wink.

Emma smiled gratefully up into his blue eyes as the tension left her shoulders. She scooted closer to him, and nudged him with her shoulder playfully. “I think I can work with that.”

“Besides, this is a far better position for me if you actually want me to hold a coherent conversation.” Killian released her hand and draped his arm casually across the back of Emma's chair. “If you kept leaning across the table at me, I believe I might've been reduced to a slavering idiot.”

“Is that so?” Emma turned her shoulders toward Killian, arching her back slightly. Feigning innocence, she looked up at him through her lashes and idly slid a lock of her golden hair through her fingers, allowing her hand to graze down her sternum to her neckline before placing it back in her lap.

Killian lowered his lips to the shell of Emma's ear, the warmth of his breath tickling her neck. “You're a bloody siren, woman.” Killian's voice was a low growl, and Emma felt the reverberation of it through her whole body.

Emma relaxed the affectation of her posture, and snuggled back under Killian's arm, chuckling quietly to herself. “I'll behave if you will.” Nonetheless, she lightly placed her left hand on Killian's right thigh perhaps a bit higher than was strictly necessary.

Killian hummed and squeezed the arm around Emma's shoulders, pulling her into him. “So, pirates are to be given no quarter, then?”

Emma crinkled her nose and smiled, “No quarter!” She felt more than heard Killian's laugh.

“Well, then, if that's the case, I should like to know more about the battle plan that you and Miss Lucas have constructed against me. I must needs be prepared to mount a defense.”

Emma felt a slight flush creep into her cheeks. _Did he really have to say 'mount' that way?_ “Let's see...” Emma removed her hand from Killian's thigh and began counting on her fingers to enumerate the points of the plan. “First, there was attire – I was instructed to wear something low-cut and tight. Ruby had recommended a short skirt, but I decided jeans were more my style. She recommended a pub instead of some fancy restaurant, which honestly I'd have preferred anyway. Oh, and I was supposed to pick a place with pool tables, so you could have the opportunity to feel me up while you help me adjust my stance.”

Killian raised an eyebrow at that. “While I am happy to oblige with feeling you up, love, I must admit I'm bloody awful at pool.”

Emma laughed, “That's a bit of a relief, actually. I'm pretty bad at it, too, and even though I know I'm bad at it, I get really competitive and bitchy when I lose.”

“Then let's agree to skip over that particular battlefield.” Emma nodded firmly, and Killian continued, “Was that the whole of your strategy or was there more to the plan?”

“Finally, I was admonished to avoid garlic, onions, red wine... anything that would mar the breath or stain the teeth. Ruby said that it would affect the 'make-out quotient'. Ergo, I will be sticking to rum and/or beer this evening.”

Killian paused to consider this for a few moments. “Swan, if I am comprehending correctly, then, it seems that the only portions of this evening which can be attributed solely to Ruby and not your own instincts would be your neckline and the rum?”

“That would be correct.” Emma replied.

Killian let his gaze drift downwards from Emma's face. When he raised his eyes back to hers he wore a lascivious smirk. “Remind me to write her a thank you note.”

Before Emma could snap back at him, the waitress returned to their table. They both ordered rum and cola, and a couple of appetizers to share (nothing with garlic or onion). By the time their food arrived, the band had finished setting up on the small stage and began their first set.

Emma and Killian made small talk and listened to the band while they ate. The band was talented and the food tasty. Conversation was easy and light, and they both found the rum was beginning to loosen their tongues. They each ordered one more round of rum and cola when the waitress returned to clear away the food dishes.

Shortly thereafter, the band took a break, and the night became still and quiet again. Killian was the first to break the companionable silence. “So, tell me love, how did the Swan and the She-Wolf become roommates?”

“We met in law school.” Emma began, “Ruby and I had several classes together first semester. I was looking for a job and she told me her grandmother needed another waitress for her diner. Granny not only hired me, but basically adopted me. She and Ruby are like family.”

Killian furrowed his brow, “So no family of your own nearby?”

Emma sighed. She knew this part of the conversation had to happen. She was just really hoping it would've come up later. Like next year or something. Still, she was determined to keep her promise to herself that she would be open, let her shields down. “No. No family at all, actually. I, uh... I grew up in the foster system. I'm an orphan.”

Killian squeezed her hand, and Emma forced herself to meet his eyes. What she saw there surprised her – it wasn't disgust or (worse) pity – Killian's eyes held _understanding_. “That's something we have in common then – lack of family.” Emma's eyes grew wide as Killian went on, “My father left us when I was very young – he got cross ways with the law somehow, and fled to avoid capture. My mother passed a few years later. Cancer.” Killian paused to take a swallow of his drink. “My older brother Liam raised me after that. He worked in oil, too. He took all the oil field jobs that were in far flung locations or too dangerous for anyone else to want because they paid the most. I traveled around with him to his job sites for years until he'd made enough money to send me off to University.”

Killian took another drink, and Emma dared not speak for fear Killian would shut down again if she interrupted. “I was in my first year at University when I got the call that there had been an accident. An explosion. That was the end of my family. I found out later that the drilling site where Liam had been working was shoddily built and not properly maintained – basically a ticking time bomb. I turned my pain inward and threw myself into my studies, hoping that if I could learn how to make drilling technology better, safer, then maybe at least indirectly I could save the life of someone else's brother.”

“So that's how you became a 'pirate'?” Emma voice was soft as she studied Killian's face.

“Aye, love. That's how I became a pirate.” Killian took one more sip of his drink and set the glass back on the table. He didn't seem to want to meet Emma's eyes, but she could still see the storm clouds brewing behind the deep blue irises.

“You're kind of amazing, you know that?” She raised up enough to stroke one side of his face with her hand, while pressing a short but tender kiss to the other cheek. She felt his sigh as she kissed him, could feel the obvious tension leaving him.

He pulled her close to his side as she settled back into her seat. She nestled her head against his shoulder and felt his head drop to rest against her hair. “And what about you, love? How did you manage to go from the foster system to a downtown high-powered law firm?”

“I stole a car.” Emma said simply. She felt Killian jolt in surprise, and she laughed as she looked up at his befuddled expression. “I suppose I should elaborate on that. I'll back up to the beginning. I was found on the side of the road when I was about a week old, wrapped in a blanket embroidered with the name 'Emma'. I don't know my real last name. I got the name 'Swan' when I was about three years old. I was living with a foster family – the Swans – and they had started the process of adopting me, so far as to have legally changed my name to Swan. They were really nice to me. But then the wife found out she was pregnant. They stopped the adoption, and I was moved to a different foster home. Then another, then another.” Now it was Emma's turn to take a swallow of her cocktail.

“I was in a group home by the time I got to high school, and I fell in with what you might call a bad element. Some vandalism, a bit of petty theft. I thought it didn't matter what I did because I didn't matter. Then there was this boy...” Emma took another drink. _The floodgates are open now... might as well wrap this up. Besides, he trusted you with his history. You owe him the same chance._

“He made me believe that he cared about me. He was part of that 'bad element'... you know, stereotypical high school bad boy. But, I thought he was dangerous and exciting... and I thought he loved me. Like we were some kind of teenage Bonnie and Clyde.” Emma laughed mirthlessly and shook her head. “God, I was an idiot. He just... he treated me like I was special, and no one in my entire life had ever done that before, and so I -” Emma pushed her hair behind her ears and looked away. “I gave him everything I had, so to speak.”

“Then one day, he talked me into stealing this ridiculous yellow Volkswagen Beetle for a joy ride. When the cops found us, he ran and left me to take the fall. I never saw him again. It wasn't the first time I'd been busted – like I said, some petty theft here and there – so I not only got my heart broken because the one person who I thought cared just ditched me, but I also got to spend some quality time in the juvenile detention center.”

Killian looked stunned. Emma took another drink, and continued, “While I was in juvie, I had time to think. I still believe that I don't matter to anyone else, but I have to matter to myself. I had to stand up for myself and take care of myself because no one else was going to. So, I studied my ass off for the rest of high school. Got a scholarship to college, and studied my ass off some more. I scored really high on my LSAT and with my grades, that got me a partial scholarship to law school. I covered whatever I couldn't pay for with scholarships or student loans by working whatever job I could get. I will probably be paying off student loans for the rest of my natural life, but it was worth it.” Emma's voice had grown stronger by this point. While she hated talking about her early life, she was genuinely proud of how hard she'd worked to get where she was now.

Killian shook his head slowly in disbelief. “You're a bloody marvel, Emma. Fair few people could manage to pull themselves up by the bootstraps as you have.”

Emma beamed at him, her face a mixture of pride and gratitude. _Maybe, just maybe, this one won't run,_ she thought, and a tiny little seed began to take root in her heart. “Thank you, Killian.”

“You said 'believe', though, lass.” Killian's expression turned serious.

“What?” Emma replied, confused.

“Just now, you said 'I still believe that I don't matter to anyone else.' You made it sound like a part of your story, but it was present tense.” Emma couldn't look at him, couldn't do anything but stare at her half-empty glass on the table, but she could feel his gaze piercing into her flesh. Seeing right into her, right through her. “Love, you can't still believe that's true, can you? You can't possibly still believe that you don't matter to anyone? Could never matter?”

With a shaky hand, Emma reached for her glass and took a small sip, setting it slowly, carefully back on the table. Stalling for time. Finally, she answered, barely a whisper, “Let's just say it's something I still struggle with.”

Killian gently took both her small hands in one of his, and with his other hand lifted her chin, feeling its slight quiver as he raised it. The vulnerability he saw in the eyes of this strong, brilliant, beautiful woman shattered his heart, disintegrating the last clinging bits of stone which had encased it. “In that case, love, I have one more secret left to tell you.” Killian moved his hand from Emma's face and reached for his drink one more time, finishing it off.

“You asked me a while ago why I stopped working out on the rig off shore -”

“Killian, you don't have to -” Emma interjected.

“No, love, it's alright. You see... how did you put it? There was this woman... Her name was Milah. She was broken by a troubled past and so was I, and we decided to be broken together. We were in love. We had a nice little place in Houston, and things were good except that I had to be away from her for weeks at a time while I was on the rig. We talked every day on the phone or on Skype whilst I was off shore. Her past boyfriend had been very controlling and abusive to her, so I think, in some ways, she actually appreciated the personal space that our arrangement afforded her.

“One night, I was out on the rig hundreds of miles away, and Milah and I were talking on the phone. She needed to run some silly errand or other, and we just kept talking as she left our apartment and went out into the parking lot to her car. Alone. At night. Then I heard her yelling at someone to get the hell away from her. She must've dropped her phone because I couldn't make out her words very distinctly after that, but I heard a man's voice shouting. I heard Milah scream her ex's name. Then I heard the gunshot.”

Emma gasped in horror and covered her mouth with her hand. She stared at Killian transfixed as he swallowed hard and continued, “I was in the middle of the damned ocean, listening to the woman I loved dying. Utterly helpless. I must've been shouting her name or something because Vic and Graham came running, and I managed to tell them to contact the authorities. I couldn't hang up my phone. It would've been like leaving her alone to die.”

Killian paused, closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “She was gone before I could even get on a helicopter to get back to the mainland. The bastard had shot her straight through the heart. After that I stayed in Houston long enough to testify at the trial. I was the only eye-, well, I should say ear-witness, though they had plenty of that forensic evidence you see on TV. It took well over a year – you know better than I how long it takes for a criminal case of that severity to go to trial. As soon as that murderer was well and safely behind bars, I put in for a transfer to Dallas. I couldn't bear being in our apartment a second longer without her there. And I could never face going back out to the rig. If I had only been there, she would still be alive. I left her alone, and some evil predator killed her.”

Emma reached up and laced her fingers in the hair at the back of Killian's neck, and caressed his face lightly with the pads of her thumbs. “Oh, my God. Killian, I'm so sorry,” she breathed.

Killian gingerly grasped her wrists and moved their hands until he was holding both of hers in his between them. He looked her dead in the eye, his voice low and earnest, “Emma, I do not tell you this for sympathy. What you need to know is that after Milah died, I turned my heart to stone. I never, _ever_ , thought I'd be capable of letting go of my first love, of my Milah, until the day I crawled cursing out of the back of a moving van and heard the golden sound of your laughter. I looked up, saw you there on that balcony – my very Juliet – and felt the stone surrounding my heart begin to crack and crumble. You brought me back to life, Emma. You weren't even trying. You didn't know, couldn't have known. But by just being you, you brought me back to life.”

Emma was drowning. Drowning in his words and in the deep blue wonderment of his eyes. Any semblance of rational thought, any attempt at speech was useless. Every synapse in her brain was firing simultaneously and all screaming at her in one voice to _STOP SITTING THERE LIKE AN IDIOT AND KISS HIM!_

And kiss him she did. She put every ounce of every feeling swirling through her being into the kiss. First, pulling him towards her abruptly using their joined hands as a tow rope, not stopping when he startled at the fierceness of her embrace. Then, twining her arms around his neck and pressing even closer until his lips parted eagerly for her. She didn't realize she'd been crying until she felt his thumb tenderly brush a tear from her cheek as his hand slid into her hair to cradle the back of her head.

A soft coughing sound snapped Emma back to reality. She pulled back from Killian blinking dazedly to see their waitress had returned and was giving them a wry look. “Sorry to interrupt y'all, but I wanted to check and see if you needed another round before the band starts their next set. Also wanted to remind you that this isn't _that kinda place_.”

Emma blushed beet red and scooted over away from Killian. Killian adjusted a bit in his seat, pressed his lips into a thin line and nodded. “Apologies, lass. We did get a bit carried away... And, ah, just a water for me. Thanks.”

“Water for me, too, please.” Emma chimed in sheepishly, “and sorry.”

The waitress leaned in conspiratorially towards Killian. “You know...” she purred, “if you _are_ looking for that kind of fun, I do know a place. My shift ends at -”

“Just the waters!” Emma interrupted, a bit louder than she meant to, smiling so tightly it was nearly painful. “Please.” She added through gritted teeth.

The waitress scampered away, and Emma turned to Killian to find him nearly convulsing with the effort to suppress a laugh. Emma rolled her eyes. “Oh, go on. Laugh. Tell me what a dashing rapscallion you are.”

“Did you know your eyes turn three shades brighter green when you're jealous, love?”

“Oh, shut up.”

“I'll do no such thing, and you'd be devastated if I did.” Killian cocked that devilish eyebrow at her, and she began to smile like a fool. The band finished the up tempo song they'd been playing and began the opening strains of something soft and slow. Killian rose from his chair and extended a hand to Emma. “Dance with me, Swan.”

Emma balked, “Seriously?”

Killian fixed her with an impatient glare, “Yes, seriously, you marvelous and infuriating creature. I wish to hold you in my arms and feel the way your delicious figure moves to the music, without risk of being tossed from the premises. Now, please. Dance with me.”

Emma smiled warmly and took his proffered hand, letting him lead her to the small area in front of the stage which had been cleared of tables. He took her right hand in his left, and slid his other arm around the back of her waist. She lightly grazed her fingers up his right arm, from his elbow until they came to rest on his shoulder. He pulled her close, and she let her head fall to rest on his shoulder, turning her face in to nuzzle his collar bone. As they swayed together in a slow circle, Killian moved his hand up her back and lovingly smoothed her hair away from her neck, pressing his lips to the exposed skin where her throat met her shoulder. Emma sighed contentedly, and allowed herself to sink into him, glowing in the warmth of his arms.

As the final chords of the song lingered in the air, Killian spun Emma away from him, and reeled her back in. She crashed breathlessly against his chest, and he swept her into a dip. When he raised her back to vertical, still clutching her tightly to him, Emma whispered in his ear, “Killian, let's go home.”

-x-

They somehow made it back to their apartment building and their floor amidst _many_ stolen kisses. When they reached doors 502 and 504, they each paused uncertainly in front of the other's door. Killian broke the stalemate, “Emma darling, as much as I truly, _truly_ do not want this night to end, are you sure, love?”

Emma smiled shyly, “Here's what I know for sure. I know that this is new. I know that tonight has been an emotional roller coaster for me, and I'm sure it has for you as well. I know that I'm not ready to... cross _that_ line yet, but I also don't want to be alone tonight. Can I stay with you, Killian? Can you just hold me?” She looked up at him through her lashes, her green eyes entreating.

Killian smiled broadly at her and brushed a stray hair from her face. “Of course, love.” He kissed her forehead, and moved to unlock his door. Once inside the apartment, Killian went directly to his closet and grabbed her a t-shirt to sleep in. It was one of his favorites left over from the garage band he played guitar for in college, faded black with a logo of a pirate skull and cross bones and the words “Jolly Roger”. He tossed it to Emma, who was hovering in the hallway outside the bedroom door.

“I suppose having resided here previously, you know where the facilities are if you wish to freshen up. I'll just give you a minute of privacy.” _Ever the gentleman,_ Emma thought. Killian stood aside and gestured for her to enter the bedroom.

Emma closed the bathroom door behind her and set about changing her clothes, and washing her face. Killian puttered about the kitchen for a few minutes, then moved to the bedroom himself, grabbed a pair of sweat pants from his dresser and began removing his jeans and dress shirt. He'd managed to strip down to his white undershirt and boxer briefs, pull on his sweatpants, turn off the light and had just slipped under the covers when Emma emerged from his bathroom. The sight of her framed in the light of that doorway, her golden hair and fair skin a striking contrast to the dark t-shirt ( _HIS t-shirt_ ) caused his jaw to hit the floor. But, he had promised to be a gentleman, and he was a man of his word.

Emma flicked off the bathroom light, crossed the floor in a few steps and sidled under the covers on the other side of the bed. Raising up on one elbow, Killian patted the pillow next to him, beckoning her. “Swan, you are the most beautiful thing I've ever seen and you should never wear anything but that t-shirt.”

Emma's replying smile turned into a yawn. Killian opened his arms to her, and she nestled into his side. Her head on his shoulder. His arm around her back. Just before they fell asleep, Emma reached her hand up to his headboard and tapped three times murmuring “Good night, Jones.” Killian pressed a kiss to her forehead, and tapped back. “Good night, love.”

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wherein we discover that Ruby is secretly shipper trash like the rest of us. Y'all, I'm not even sorry.

In all the romantic movies, the couple falls asleep in each other's arms, and wakes together in a tender embrace. This was not that. When Emma awoke, all six feet of Killian Jones was sprawled belly-down across as much of the bed as was physically possible. His head was underneath his pillow in the top right hand quadrant of the bed, and one of his feet was pressed to the back of Emma's calf in the lower left quadrant. His left arm had possibly been thrown across her waist at some point in the night, but now had drifted down so that his hand was resting on her ass. In fact, it was a gentle squeeze from that hand on her rear which informed Emma that Killian had awoken.

Emma rolled onto her side to face towards him, and lifted the pillow covering his face to find him grinning sleepily at her. “You're really here,” he murmured, his smile broadening.

“I'm here.” Emma grinned back. She dropped the pillow back on his face playfully, and he tucked it under his head, rolling so that he was on his side facing her as well.

Killian furrowed his brow in mock consternation, “Why are you so far over _there_?” Killian reached both arms towards Emma, beckoning her with a hand gesture.

Emma raised an eyebrow at him, “Because _you_ are a shameless bed-hog, that's why.” She scooched a few inches closer to him and pressed an accusing finger to his chest. “Good thing you have a queen-size bed, or I'd have ended up sleeping on the floor.”

“Oi! I resent that.” Killian reached his arms out and pulled her the rest of the way to him. Emma rolled over, so that her back was pressed to his front. One of his biceps supported her neck, while his other arm snaked around her waist, his splayed hand warm on her stomach even through the t-shirt she wore. He nuzzled his face into her hair, breathing in the scent of her shampoo and last night's perfume. His hot breath tickled Emma's ear as he whispered, “Besides... You, Emma Swan, are a world-class blanket thief.” Emma scoffed dismissively.

“And you snore.” Killian added, pulling his head back quickly to avoid clunking it against Emma's as she whipped her head around to glare at him over her shoulder. To emphasize her indignation, she swatted him on the arm that was wrapped around her middle, but he only pulled her more tightly to him. She could feel his torso shake with laughter against her back.

“I do NOT snore.” Emma squirmed against him, trying her best to scoot away so she could scowl at him properly.

“Mmmm...” he hummed indecently against her ear. “Wriggle all you want, love, but I warn you I might just like it.” Nonetheless, he released her and she immediately sprang to her knees on the bed, grabbed the nearest pillow and chucked it at his head. He batted the projectile away, laughing wholeheartedly.

Emma, blushing furiously, picked up another pillow, and narrowed her eyes at him, smiling wickedly, “Take it back or I won't miss next time.”

“Oh no, love, I absolutely meant it that I'd like you wriggling against me,” he smoldered, tongue flicking to the corner of his mouth. Emma's pillow missile caught him in the gut. “Fine.” He relented, “My darling Emma, you do not snore. You merely purr like the daintiest of kittens.” Emma's mouth frowned, but her eyes were softer now.

“It's quite adorable, really,” Killian continued. He relaxed back against the stack of thrown pillows, and spread his arms in invitation. “Now come back down here and give us a cuddle.”

Emma, satisfied for the time being with his penitence, plunked herself back down onto the bed. She stretched out on her side with her body turned toward his, propping herself up on one elbow. Killian threaded an arm through the gap between her upper arm and rib cage, and began tracing idle patterns on her back with his fingers. She sighed, looking up into his eyes, the blue made even more luminous by the morning sunlight peeking through the blinds. Killian tightened his arm around her and inclined his head down to press a soft kiss to her mouth.

Emma really intended to keep her lips closed, to pull away, but... _Morning breath be damned_ , she thought. She leaned into the kiss, her lips parting for him, relishing the soft warmth of his mouth on hers. Killian made a low growl in the back of his throat and wrapped his other arm around her waist, rolling her flush against him, her body leaning over his. Killian slowly slid his hand from Emma's waist to her lower back, finally resting it on her rear with a gentle squeeze. Emma smiled against his mouth, and Killian gave her lower lip a teasing nip. Emma's eyes fluttered open, and she caught a flash of red light, which she soon realized was the display of Killian's alarm clock.

 _7:00 a.m._ , Emma realized, eyes flying wide, _I'm gonna be late for work!_

“ _Ohmigod!_ ” Emma pulled back from Killian abruptly.

“My sentiments exactly, love,” Killian's eyes were blue flame and Emma was sorely tempted to stay in bed and pick up right where they'd just left off.

“No! Well... I mean... _yes_ , that was...” Emma raised her eyebrows and nodded smiling dreamily. Killian smirked, as Emma went on. “But... _stop looking at me like that_. Look at the clock!” Emma began to scramble out of the bed.

Killian did as instructed, and turned back to Emma with a frown. “It's barely past seven. We've got nearly two hours before we have to be anywhere. And I've got quite a few more ideas of how to pass the time.” He cocked an eyebrow as he drew out the final “m”, pressing his lips together then slowly pulling them into a suggestive smile.

Emma couldn't help but smile back. “Yeah, well, all of this -” she gestured demonstratively from her head to her feet, “- takes some time to get presentable, and now on top of everything else, I've got beard burn all over my face.” Killian's chest puffed out a bit at that and his smirk intensified. “You needn't look so pleased with yourself.” Emma picked up her jeans from the floor and pulled them on. She stashed her pink top, shoes and jewelry from the previous night into her purse and slung the bag onto her shoulder.

Killian swung his bare feet over the side of the bed and stood. “Love, I'd much rather _you_ were being _pleased_ by my self.” Emma blushed deeply and Killian closed the distance between them, stopping directly in front of her and placing a hand lightly on each side of her waist. “And you look absolutely delicious in the morning, so I doubt that all of _this_ -” he mimicked her head-to-toe gesture, “requires as much work as you say. Nonetheless, I'll not stand in your way. You can give me back my t-shirt next time.”

Emma smiled coyly up at him. “Next time?”

Killian's smirk fell away, leaving behind an earnestness in his eyes that made Emma's heart stutter. He slid his hands down her arms from her elbows to her wrists, taking her hands in his and bringing their joined hands together between them in a gesture of supplication. “Emma, will you go out with me again?”

Emma tilted her head, a dopey grin spreading across her face. As much as she enjoyed lusty, flirty Killian (and she enjoyed him intensely), it was this – the vulnerability, the open adoration in his expression – that turned Emma's insides to marshmallow fluff. Instead of answering with words, she raised up on her toes and pressed a sweet, slow kiss to his lips.

She pulled away reluctantly. As she opened her eyes, she noticed he was biting his lower lip in a poor attempt to suppress his smile, but the light in his eyes illuminated his countenance nonetheless. Killian gave her hands a squeeze, then released them turning the movement into a courtly bow – just as he had done the first minute she'd seen him. “May I escort the lady home?”

Emma giggled and reached out to rustle the black hair of his bowed head. “You may, sir.”

Straightening, Killian chuckled and extended his hand to Emma. She accepted, interlacing their fingers. Hand-in-hand and barefoot they walked the short distance to Emma's front door.

-x-

After one final goodnight (good morning?) kiss at her door, Emma entered her apartment. She tossed her purse onto the couch, and headed straight towards her bedroom. Distraction addled her consciousness in the form of thoughts of Killian and frantic fears of being late to work. It was no wonder then, that it took several seconds of the walk across her living room for her to register the naked man standing in her kitchen.

Emma froze, eyes popping wide in shock. She cocked her head to the side. _I couldn't possibly have just seen..._ She turned ever so slowly around to face the kitchen. _Yep._

“What the FUCK?!” Emma shrieked. Immediately afterwards, several things happened at once:

Emma realized, with some degree of relief, that the naked man was in fact Killian's friend Victor. _At least if there's pervert in my kitchen, it's a familiar pervert._

Ruby bolted into the room, hands spread wide in a pacifying gesture, and stammered, “Emma, I can explain.”

Killian pounded on the front door shouting, “Swan! Swan, are you alright in there!” Then apparently finding the door unlocked, burst into the room. When he saw his friend he stopped, chest still heaving with angered breaths, and his face instantly changed to an expression of utter perplexity. “Vic? What the _bloody hell_ is going on here, mate?”

In the commotion, Victor had managed to grab a dish towel and was now using it to cover certain strategic areas. “Whoa – easy there K. Just wait a minute and I can explain...”

Ruby moved to Victor's side and squeezed his shoulder with an embarrassed smile. “Baby, I think you better let me do the explaining while you go and put on some pants.”

Victor shut his eyes and nodded his assent. Then he _very carefully_ backed away into Ruby's bedroom. Emma and Killian moved to the couch, as Ruby slumped down into her arm chair and ran a hand over her eyes. “So...” Ruby sighed and made a futile attempt at her usual chipper demeanor, “I'm guessing you have questions...”

“Since I'm pretty sure I know the answer to 'why was there a naked man in my kitchen this morning?'...Let's start with you calling a man 'baby',” Emma began incredulously. “I've known you for ten years, and I've NEVER heard THAT before.” Emma paused and the pieces began to click into place. “Ohmigod. This is why you've been acting so weird all weekend. Why I had to be out of the house by 7:00 on Saturday. You had a DATE. Not a hook-up or a pick-up...a date. And why last night you told me I'd better not come home. You wanted the place to yourself.”

Ruby pursed her lips, but would not meet Emma's eyes, instead paying rapt attention to picking at her nail polish. Emma narrowed her eyes at her roommate and fixed her with a shrewd glare, “But... I've never known you to go out with the same guy more than once – certainly not on consecutive nights. Holy crap, are you and Victor, like, _together?_ ”

Ruby's face quirked into a half-smile half-cringe as she shrugged. “Yeah,” she squeaked. Her awkward demeanor was belied by the light glinting from her eyes. Emma's expression softened at her friend's obvious happiness.

“Honey!” Emma exclaimed reaching out to squeeze her roommate's hand. “Why the hell didn't you just tell me? Why all the secretive nonsense?”

“Well...” Ruby began guiltily, “it all started after Vic shipped out the Monday after Killian moved in. It was just some harmless X-rated Skyping at first, which I figured you wouldn't want to hear about -”

“-and you were right. Thanks for that.” Emma interjected.

“But then... I don't know. We started talking about things other than how he'd like to -” Ruby paused at Emma's grimace, “- well anyway, things just sort of progressed. So, when he told me he'd be done with his shift on the rig Friday, and I knew I'd be back in town Saturday morning, we made... you know, a date. A real one. And I didn't tell you about any of it, because I didn't want you to get all weird and spooked and mess up all my evil plans for you and Killian – especially after I saw what a train wreck you were Saturday morning.”

Emma suddenly felt the warmth of Killian's arms around her waist, and she leaned back to rest against his chest. “Swan, you were a train wreck over _me_?” he murmured against her ear.

Emma looked sidelong back at him over her shoulder and raised an eyebrow. “Mmmm, maybe.” She nudged him playfully in the ribs with her elbow. “But, I'd say things are considerably better now.”

Ruby beamed at them. “See? Look how _adorbs_ you two are. I regret _nothing!_ ” Ruby paused to consider, “Well... except maybe letting Vic go start the coffee maker without putting pants on first.”

“So, wait. What would you have done if I hadn't agreed to go over to Killian's place to make amends Saturday night?” Emma asked.

Ruby swished her hand in the air dismissively. “Oh... there was a contingency plan in place. Graham was supposed to take Killian out for a beer, and Elsa was going to call and invite you out for cocktails and y'all were all supposed to 'accidentally' bump into each other.”

Killian was aghast. “Graham and Elsa were in on this, too? That explains why the bastard told me Vic was still in Houston when I asked why he wouldn't be joining us that night.”

“Elsa and Graham, huh?” Emma thought aloud. “Hang on, are they...?”

Ruby shook her head in annoyance. “Yes, they were in on it, and no they are not. The Bickersons just like to argue with each other. For now. One evil plan at a time. You know, I do have a day job, after all.”

Emma raised her eyebrows and blinked rapidly, trying to wrap her mind around the idea of a cabal of her friends intervening in her love life. Victor, now fully clothed, reemerged from Ruby's room and thereby spared Emma from having to make further comment on the topic. Killian and Victor nodded awkwardly at each other with forced, nearly painful looking smiles affixed to their faces. Victor gestured between them, “K... are we, you know... good, man?”

“Not likely, mate, but we can talk about it later.” Killian shot his friend a significant scowl, then turned his attention back to Emma and Ruby, his tone easing a bit, “For now, as Miss Lucas pointed out, we all have day jobs we should be getting to.”

Ruby stood and walked Victor to the door leaving him with a somewhat excessive kiss and a “Skype me tonight when you get back to Houston.” Killian rose as well, pressing a tame-in-comparison kiss to Emma's lips, but there was no lack of heat in his voice as he whispered, “See you later, love,” in her ear.

-x-

When the two roommates were finally alone, Emma took hold of Ruby's arm and turned her so the women looked each other in the eye. Emma noted with surprise that Ruby's eyes still held a certain dreamy glaze to their expression that disappeared like a popped bubble when Emma began to speak, her tone matter-of-fact. “Okay, girl, truth time. What the actual fuck.”

Ruby responded unabashedly, “We all saw it – in the hallway the day Killian moved in. Elsa and I had never seen you so starstruck – not even over Neal. And apparently Killian wouldn't shut up about you to Vic and Graham the rest of the day.”

A memory floated into Emma's mind, _And you must be the famous Emma Swan..._

Emma absently dropped her hand from Ruby's arm as Ruby continued, “Anyway, Vic told me that you're the first woman Killian has so much as noticed the existence of since...” Ruby paused, unsure. “Has he told you about... _her_?”

Emma cast her eyes down and nodded. “Yeah. He told me last night.”

Ruby nodded as well in acknowledgment. “So – understandably – that whole thing pretty much destroyed him. Vic said Killian spent the first couple of months stone drunk, and after that it was more like he was _made_ of stone.”

Another memory surfaced in Emma's consciousness, _A_ _fter Milah died, I turned my heart to stone...You brought me back to life, Emma._ Tears began to prickle at Emma's eyes, but she ignored them. “This still doesn't explain why the four of you decided to go all secret match-makers on us.”

“Look, we love you guys. You're like a sister to me and to Elsa. Killian and Vic and Graham have been 'bros' or whatever for years. But we also _know_ you guys.” Emma rolled her eyes, but Ruby would not be halted. “You have to admit, you both have serious baggage and some pretty thick emotional shields. We all just thought that you two could use a few little subtle _nudges-_ ” Ruby flicked her hand in a patting gesture, “-to get where you both clearly and obviously wanted to go. I mean, for God's sake that man is a friggin' actual puppy pirate king or whatever when you're around.”

Emma cast her eyes downward again, but couldn't fight the slow smile lighting her features. Ruby pointed at Emma making tiny circles with her finger to indicate Emma's facial expression, “And _you_ make _that_ face whenever you think about him.” Ruby clapped her hands gleefully three times, and pressed her palms together with a shrug. “It's _precious_ . And as I said before: I regret _nothing._ ”

Emma grumbled and lifted her face to the heavens for assistance. Receiving none, she bit the inside of her cheek and exhaled sharply in capitulation. “So have you and your little Scooby Gang been having secret meetings or something, then?”

“Ehn, you know... text messages, emails, Skype...”

“I know I'm going to regret asking this, but... it occurs to me that when we were at Granny's the other day, you called Killian 'Captain Hook'. Did that colorful moniker come out of said texts and emails?”

Ruby pressed her lips together in the first show of any kind of sheepishness since this conversation had begun. “Um...yes.”

“So when I asked you not to call him that and you said, 'Too late, it's a thing now' you actually meant it was _already a thing._ ”

Ruby nodded, her eyes lowered and shifted side-to-side before looking up at Emma again.

Emma ran her hand down her face and held it under her chin. She scrunched her eyes closed and continued with trepidation, “God, I'm so not gonna like the answer to this. Any other little cutesy tidbits of that nature that I should know about?”

Her shoulders shaking with a barely repressed snicker, Ruby replied, “Yes...?”

“And that would be..?”

“We may or may not have called our evil plan 'Operation Captain Swan'.” Ruby's laughter burst forth and followed Emma as she stormed away towards her bedroom. She called after Emma's retreating form, “You know because of the Captain Hook thing? And your last name? And, you know, Skinny-bitch What's-her-face played a Captain Swan in that Pirates of the Caribbean movie -”

“ _Bye_ , Ruby!” Emma shouted back without turning. _Done. I am so done. I am gonna stand under a scalding hot shower until I no longer want to hide under a rock._

“You can tell me and Elsa all about your date at lunch!” was the last thing Emma heard before slamming her door shut and cranking on the hot water.

-x-

Emma was still fuming over her bruised dignity when she heard the knock on her office door hours later. Ruby and Elsa had already barged into her office once that morning to try to make peace. _I shut the stupid door to keep my stupid meddling friends out, and they can just keep standing in the stupid hallway looking stupid._ “Go away, Ruby!” Emma called, scowling in the door's general direction.

Emma jolted in surprise when a raspy baritone voice responded, “I come in peace, and bearing offerings of caffeine. Permission to enter?” Her door opened just enough for a masculine hand holding what appeared to be a grande latte to peek through the opening.

Emma brightened. “Your offering is acceptable. Permission granted,” she replied.

Neal Cassidy sauntered into Emma's office smiling broadly and placed the cardboard coffee cup in front of her before assuming his usual seat on the opposite side of her desk. “Sorry for the prickly greeting,” Emma apologized taking a sip of the proffered coffee, “I was afraid you were Ruby or Elsa.”

“Elsa?” Neal looked confused. “I don't remember an Elsa... is she new?”

Emma furrowed her brows. “No... Elsa's worked here longer than I have. Head paralegal? Works with me and Regina mostly?” Neal still looked lost, so Emma went on, “Tall, really pale blonde hair, usually in a braid? Serious quantities of sass?”

“Oh, the snarky blonde. Yeah, okay.” He nodded in recognition. “Sorry, I don't really fraternize with admin staff. They've got their own stuff going on. Probably makes them feel uncomfortable to have their bosses hanging around, you know?” Emma raised an eyebrow at that, but let it go. _Has Neal always been this... snobbish?_ Neal laughed to himself, “Besides there's so much turnover in the secretarial pool. Seems like I have a different assistant every month. I actually don't think I even know the name of the girl who's working for me right now... Um, petite brunette? 'Betty' maybe?”

Emma raised her eyebrows again, “Yeah, it's Belle,” she said slowly, taking another sip from her cup. “She's probably the best paralegal here besides Elsa.”

Neal snapped his fingers and pointed in the air. “Belle! That's it. Yeah, she's a real peach,” he added with a smile.

 _Okay, I'm starting to see why Elsa always wants to throw a chair at him,_ Emma thought. She shook her head slightly to clear the image. “Anyway, speaking of Belle, I've been emailing her all that research I dug up for the Midas brief. Have you had a chance to look over any of it?”

“Yeah, of course, yeah.” Neal said reassuringly. “Great stuff, Ems. Keep it coming!” He paused, his fingers tapping a staccato rhythm on his knee. “But you know...” he leaned in and lowered his voice conspiratorially, “Mary Margaret's been dragging me to all these charity fund raiser things for all of her little pet causes.” He rolled his eyes and gave a log-suffering sigh, “I haven't had time to do any write ups yet. You know, since you did such a brilliant job on the research and you already know the material in and out, why don't you do the writing? Your so much better of a writer than I am anyway, Ems.” His eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled at her.

Emma narrowed her eyes at him, “I've already been doing that. The draft is about two-thirds finished – it's saved in the doc management system. I emailed you the link over a week ago.”

“Yeah, no – I know, I know...” Neal added quickly, waving a hand to swish away her doubts. “I meant, you should go ahead and finish it. What you've written so far is fantastic, Ems, so I'd hate to steal any of your thunder by putting my fingerprints on it now. Gold's gonna let me sit at counsel table with him and Regina for the oral argument, so that'll be my glory there. We both can play to our strong suits this way. You're a writer, I'm a talker.”

 _You certainly are a talker..._ Emma gave a slow nod, and drank deeply from the coffee cup to buy herself a moment to think. _Having the bosses know I wrote the entire thing is definitely going to make an impression._ Emma couldn't help the wariness that had begun to creep into her bones during this whole conversation. It wasn't like him to give up an opportunity to score points with the partners. On the other hand, if he was telling the truth about assisting Gold in the actual courtroom, then he would be getting plenty of “glory,” as he put it, that way. The idea was plausible enough. _Maybe he's trying to do me a favor? Still... I dunno - something about this feels off. But it's_ Neal. _We're friends, right?_ Emma smiled tentatively, and finally replied, “Yeah, okay. I'll finish it up. When's the due date to present it to the partners?”

“Monday after next, so two weeks from today.” Neal cast his eyes to the floor for a moment, again drumming his fingers on his knee. When he glanced back up to Emma's face, his eyes seemed to be ever-so-slightly narrowed, somehow studying her.

“I can make that work.” Emma shrugged a nonchalant shoulder. “I don't have any major deadlines on my cases until next month.”

There was that charming boyish smile again, turned up to full-wattage. Neal rose from the chair, and began walking around the desk to where she sat. He extended both arms towards her, palms up, as if she was a grand prize he was presenting to the world. “Awww, you're the best, Ems!”

For a split second, Emma thought Neal was about to hug her. Her shock was palpable when, instead, he leaned in and pressed a short peck of a kiss to her cheek. Emma's eyes flew wide, but she recovered her composure quickly as Neal walked back around to the other side of her desk. He was still smiling, though not as broadly. Rather, he seemed again to be studying her, his head tilted slightly to one side.

“There's something different about you today, Ems. I can't quite put my finger on it.” He waggled a pointer finger in her direction to illustrate. After a moment's consideration, he shook his head slightly and shrugged. “Whatever it is, it looks good on you.” He gave her a little wink, and turned to leave, calling back over his shoulder, “See you later, gorgeous!”

Emma watched him go, then cast a glance over at the clock on her desk. It was nearly lunch time now. She picked up the handset of her phone and punched in Elsa's extension. Immediately Elsa's voice came on the line, a highly unusual apologetic note in her tone, “Emma! Hey, I just want to - “

“It's okay.” Emma said firmly. “Look, I've had my sulk this morning, and I'm ready to make peace with you guys.” Emma paused taking a deep breath and ran her free hand through her hair. “This has just been the weirdest morning... Can you take your lunch break now?”

“Yeah, just let me send off one more email to that ninny of a legal assistant over at DeVille & Associates on the Nolan case. She really needs to get her shit together. I mean, it isn't my job to tell her how to do her job...”

Emma laughed as Elsa continued her tirade. When Elsa finally took a breath, Emma teased, “Just don't make her cry again, okay? I'll buzz Ruby to see if she's ready to go, while you send your howler.”

“Works for me.”

“Oh, and Elsa? How well do you know Belle French?”

“Cassidy's paralegal? Pretty well... what's the deal?”

“I'll tell you about it at lunch, but let's just say I think I may need to talk to her.”

 


	8. Chapter 8

Emma had thoroughly enjoyed her long lunch with Ruby and Elsa. They'd been properly apologetic for meddling in Emma's love life, and then, of course, proceeded to question her relentlessly about her date the previous night. It was one of the downsides of having an attorney and a paralegal for best friends – they were both fully capable of cross-examining her within an inch of her life.

Emma's only recourse had been to turn the topic to Ruby's new romance. Elsa had suspected that something was going on between Ruby and Victor. (“I keep telling you girls that Elsa knows all – besides, Ruby's not as sneaky as she thinks she is.”) Still, she'd laughed so hard she actually snorted when Emma told the story of coming home to find a naked Victor in the kitchen. Elsa and Ruby both voted Killian's dramatic burst through the front door was “seriously hot”, even though Emma was a little unsure.

When Emma told her friends about her strange conversation that morning with Neal including his uncharacteristic kiss on her cheek, Ruby and Elsa exchanged a dubious glance before turning back to Emma. Concern was evident in Ruby's voice as she broke the silence first, “Honey, are you sure you know what you're doing with Neal?”

Emma exhaled slowly, “No. No, I'm not. That's why I'm talking to you two about this. I know both of you have issues with Neal, but he's never been anything but friendly and supportive to me. Today, though... I don't know. He just seemed so... different. Almost _too_ friendly.”

“Yeah, well, the Wolf was very friendly to Red Riding Hood. Until he wasn't.” Emma gave Ruby a sarcastic half-smile for that comment, but Ruby continued, “Look, I know you had feelings for Neal for a long time, and those feelings are not just going to immediately poof away in a cloud of pixie dust. So, don't chop my head off for saying this, but it sounds to me like maybe now you're starting to see the Neal that the rest of us see. Maybe a certain smokin' hot neighbor has something to do with that?”

Emma hummed and cast her eyes to the table shyly. “Maybe. So, what – you guys think I shouldn't finish the brief? Just tell Neal he needs to handle it himself?”

“Hell, no!” Ruby exclaimed. “You should write the shit out of it. It's your best chance for Regina and Gold to fully appreciate the awesomeness that is you. Just... really try to keep your eyes open with Neal, okay? I don't want him trying to take advantage of you either professionally or otherwise with this flirting and cheek-kissing bullshit.”

“What say you, Ice Queen?” Emma asked, turning to Elsa. Elsa had been unusually quiet during the exchange between Emma and Ruby, simply sitting with her head tilted back and eyes narrowed in thought. Typically, Neal Cassidy bashing was a favored hobby of hers, but she'd forgone any interjections this time.

Snapping back to the present, Elsa paused for a beat, pursing her lips before responding, “Do the brief, yes, but don't talk to Cassidy any more about it. If he checks in with you, just tell him you have it handled. Something about all this has been eating at me since Regina asked to see those red-line drafts last week, and I have a little theory forming... I don't want to say anything else until I have a better idea if I'm right.”

“Well that's cryptic as hell.” Emma remarked with a sidelong glance at Elsa. “Do you think I should talk to Belle? I know the paralegals are always the ones who actually know what's going on at the firm. Like you, Ms. All-Knowing.”

“Which is why you and Ruby are the two smartest attorneys in the place. You both have the good sense to suck up to me.” Elsa grinned over-brightly at her friends. “Yeah, talk to Belle. She's good people, and she has no love for Cassidy. Seriously, the only reason she's working for him now is because literally none of the other paralegals will do it. Five of us have threatened to quit if we ever get assigned to him.”

“Yikes. Well, if I'm honest, after this morning I think I can see why. He called you guys the 'secretarial pool,' like it was an episode of Mad Men or something.”

Elsa's eyes narrowed dangerously. “Did he now?” she purred, her voice dripping with venom.

Sensing the need to change the topic before Elsa went into a full diatribe, Emma offered, “You know with all the drama this weekend, I never got to hear about Ruby's trip to Chicago.”

Elsa gave an indignant huff, but turned her attention to Ruby, “I heard our little She-Wolf really put the bite on some hostile witnesses.”

Ruby smiled with feigned modesty, “I may have made a few of them cry – or more accurately, go purple in the face and sputter like idiots. I'd sniffed out a bunch of evidence they never suspected anyone would find.” All faux humility faded, and her grin turned feral. “Imagine their surprise when I shoved in their faces.”

“Nice one!” Emma laughed, nodding her approval. “Those corporate stuffed suits are really going to be terrified to face you at trial.”

Ruby daintily pressed her hand to her heart and fluttered her eyelashes, the picture of shy innocence. “Now who's afraid of little ol' me?” Her friends' peals of laughter echoing through the cafe were answer enough.

-x-

It was after 10:00 p.m. when Emma finally returned home to her apartment from work that night. Between taking an extended lunch break and the looming deadline for the Midas brief _which she would apparently be doing all by herself_ , she had really needed to put in some extra hours.

She only just set her purse and briefcase down next to the couch and kicked off her heels when she heard a knock on her door. She padded barefoot to the door, tugging off her earrings en route, and opened it to find a handsome pirate smiling at her. “Fancy a night cap, Swan?”

Emma arched an eyebrow and looked up into his eyes, “Hm. Sounds tempting...” Killian's grin broadened and Emma's eyes flicked to his mouth briefly. “Give me a minute to change and I'll be right over. I'd invite you in, but I'm pretty sure based on the Marvin Gaye I hear coming from her room, that Ruby's about to engage in  _online relations_ with Victor.”

“Ah.” Killian nodded crinkling his nose in distaste. “I've had quite enough of that image today. My thanks for the warning.” Emma chuckled lightly.

Shaking off the offending mental picture, Killian stepped closer to Emma placing his hands on the sides of her waist. “By all means, love, slip into something more comfortable, and I shall await the pleasure of your company.” He placed a quick kiss on Emma's lips and tossed a mischievous wink at her, then turned to go.

-x-

Fifteen minutes later, ponytailed and clad in pajama bottoms and a hoodie, Emma reclined in contented comfort on Killian's couch. From that vantage point, if she craned her neck a bit, she could just make out the back of his dark, messy hair as he puttered around in the kitchen. She caught a whiff of the warm, rich scent of hot cocoa before Killian's voice called out, “Spiked or un-spiked, darling?”

Smiling to herself, Emma responded, “Un- please. I'm already drowsy enough as it is. In fact, if you don't get over here soon, you may find a sleeping blonde on your sofa.” Emma stretched and yawned to illustrate. Her eyelids truly were getting rather droopy, and she may have barely dozed off when she heard the clink of mugs on the coffee table next to her. She felt the sofa dip near her hip as Killian sat at her side, but she didn't open her eyes.

Her cheeks ached with the effort of not smiling as Killian leaned down over her and whispered, “Would it be bad form to kiss the sleeping beauty awake?” Emma's ribs gave a tiny twitch as she suppressed a laugh, and her repressed smile broke through ever-so-slightly. Taking these as hints of assent, Killian pressed a soft, lingering kiss Emma's lips.

As he pulled back, she fluttered her eyelashes open dramatically, then cocked a wry eyebrow at him. “You sure take this Prince Charming business seriously, don't you?”

Killian returned her smirk. As Emma moved to sit up, he reached for the two mugs on the table, and handed the one with the sprinkling of cinnamon on top to her. “If you mean, do I do my utmost to ensure that a lady of your quality is always treated as such, then yes. I supposed I do.”

Emma took a tentative sip of the hot cocoa, but it scalded her tongue. Scrunching her nose, she set the cup down on the table and continued, “No, I mean with the bowing and the escorting me home even though I live literally next door, and the nearly breaking down my door this morning.”

Killian set his cup down as well. Scratching behind his ear, he replied sheepishly, “Ah, you refer to my fruitless attempt at a dashing rescue...”

“Yeah, that. Don't you think that was a tad... melodramatic?” Emma added, her tone teasing.

“Perhaps, but I heard your scream, and I couldn't let any harm come to my Swan.” Killian nudged Emma's leg with his knee.

_His Swan?_ Emma's mind raced.  _His?_ That sounded suspiciously like belonging. Emma didn't belong to anyone. Had never belonged to anyone, not like that. She'd been willing to take a chance with Killian, to let him inside her shields, but to be someone's “my” anything... It was too much. A swell of panic began building in Emma's chest. She took another sip of the still-too-hot cocoa to cover her nerves, placing it more roughly back on the table than she intended.

Killian sensed her discomfort ran deeper than an overly warm beverage, and draped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer to him. “Emma, I do apologize if my behavior this morning offended you. I suppose I tend towards the over-protective.”

Emma stiffened.  _And now he wants to_ protect  _me? I can't let anyone else protect me but me. What if I rely on him? Then if he leaves...WHEN he leaves..._ She shrugged his arm away, and rounded on him. “Well, you don't have to worry about me. I'm not some damsel in distress. No one rescues me, but me.” Her voice rang harshly in her own ears, and much louder than she'd meant it to be.

Killian's expression darkened, his brows furrowed. “Swan, I never meant to imply that you are some frail creature who cannot fend for herself. I am well aware that quite the opposite is true. I want to be there for you, to help you, to take care of you  _not_ because you cannot take care of yourself, but because I -” Killian paused, exhaling forcefully, “- because you are very important to me. Please, don't pick a fight as an excuse to push me away.”

_How did he...?_ Emotions overwhelmed Emma, and tears began to prick at her eyes.  _I've got to get out of here. I'm about to lose it._ Emma tried to keep the emotion out of her voice as she spoke, “I'm really tired. I think I better go.” Emma stood, deliberately avoiding eye contact, and began walking towards the door.

“Swan, what are you doing?” The question was barely above a whisper, but it froze Emma in her tracks.

It was the tenderness in his voice that made her stop. She finally screwed up the courage to look him in the eyes, and it was those eyes that made her stay. She'd seen desire in a man's eyes before, or disdain, or indifference. Those were sentiments with which she was familiar. Killian's eyes held something that she'd never seen: fear. Fear that she was leaving – really  _leaving_ – not just going home for the night. No one had ever been afraid that  _she'd_ leave  _him_ before. Beneath the fear, Emma also saw something else, something new and strange and beautiful that she couldn't quite name, but that pulled at her heart and murmured through her thoughts that  _this time it's different. This one is different._

Emma swept her gaze over all of him, taking him in. He was standing now, his body taut, his hands clenched at his sides. She ached to run to him, to kiss away the furrow of his brow, but she wasn't ready. Not yet. She managed to tamp down her own panic enough, though, to offer him some reassurance. She owed him that much at least.

Emma walked slowly back to where Killian stood, her eyes now fixed on his handsome face. She placed a hand on his chest, and he sighed, some of the tension leaving his body. As she slid her hand up his chest to his neck, grazing her thumb lightly along his jawline, he closed his eyes and leaned into her touch. “I'm just going home,” she stated simply. “It really has been a long and weird day, and I can't be late to work again.” Emma reached up with her other arm and linked her fingers behind Killian's neck. His arms wrapped around her back and pressed her to him, her head resting on his shoulder. “I'm not running, Killian, I promise. Just... please be patient with me.”

“Of course, love. I've got all the time in the world.”

“Thank you,” Emma mumbled into his shoulder. Killian tightened his arms around her in a quick hug, then the two separated. Emma reached out her hand, and Killian automatically linked his fingers through hers as they walked to the door. Somewhere in the back of Emma's mind, it occurred to her that they were nearly always touching in some way. Just casually – an arm around a shoulder or waist, a hand on the small of the back, knees brushing under a table, shoulders leaned against each other. The thought sent a trickle of warmth through Emma's veins.

“Fair warning,” Emma explained as they reached Killian's door, “I've got a huge project at work that's due in two weeks, so I'm probably going to be working late every night until it's done. I just don't want you to think, you know... if you don't see me very much for a few days, that I'm avoiding you.”

“I appreciate the notice,” Killian replied with a nod. “I'm hesitant to bring this up for fear of starting another row, but does it bother you to be up at your office so late at night alone?”

Emma merely shrugged, “It's a law firm, so there's rarely a night when several people aren't up there working late. I doubt I'll ever be up there alone. Besides there's a key pad you have to punch a code into to get back to where my actual office is.” Killian seemed somewhat relieved by that, and Emma continued, “And if you happen to miss me or get bored, you can text me or I'm almost always on Skype at work. It's the easiest way to chat with Ruby and Elsa without getting busted for being on the phone.”

Killian grinned. “I shall keep that in mind. Well, since I've apparently made an arse of myself by insisting on walking you all the way to your door, I will bid you adieu here, milady.” He raised her hand in his and tenderly brushed his lips across her knuckles causing a little shiver to run down Emma's spine.

Emma grinned back at him, “Good night, Killian.”

“Good night, Emma.”

-x-

Ruby was lolling in her arm chair with a spoon in one hand and a half-eaten pint of Ben & Jerry's in the other when Emma entered their apartment. “I heard you yelling through the wall. Start talking, or I'm going to call a meeting of Team Captain Swan for an intervention.”

Emma rolled her eyes and flopped onto the couch. “Weren't you, you know... busy? How on earth did you hear that?”

“I _was_ busy,” Ruby argued. “In fact you damn near ruined the big finish. I heard you because my hearing is impeccable. I was able to salvage my escapade because my _focus_ is also impeccable, but that's not the point. Again, start talking.”

Emma sighed in defeat. “He called me ' _my_ Swan', and he was being all protective and stuff...”

“And you basically freaked out?”

“Yup.”

“Are you still freaking out?”

“A little bit.”

Ruby dropped the spoon into the ice cream carton and set it on the coffee table. She leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms, but the expression on her face held compassion and concern. “You wanna tell me _why_ you freaked out?”

Emma rubbed her temples. “Gah. I don't know. Having a guy call me 'his'... I just... it's just been me for so long, you know? I take care of me. I protect me. I don't know if I have it in me to rely on someone else, or worse – have them rely on me. It's too much responsibility. And what happens when I ultimately let him down? When he realizes I'm not worth it?” Emma's voice began to crack. “I guess... I guess it all just got a little too real. So I panicked and picked a fight with him and tried to yell at him for treating me like a damsel in distress.”

“Karamel Sutra?” Ruby proffered the spoon and ice cream carton to her roommate.

Emma finally looked up. “Pass, but thanks.”

Ruby stood from her chair and made her way to the kitchen to return the ice cream carton to the freezer. Rather than turning towards her own side of the apartment, she paused, leaning against a bar stool, and fixed Emma with a hard stare. Emma briefly thought Ruby had never looked more like Granny than in that moment. “As your practically-adopted-sister who has known you for ten years, can I offer up some unsolicited advice?”

“With a lead-in like that? I'm all ears.” Emma replied with trepidation.

“First off, you're not a damsel in distress. No one thinks that, Killian included. But you are a  _ human being _ and even the strongest human beings from time to time need to lean on the other human beings who care about them. Sometimes they even need to be rescued. It isn't weakness to let someone else be there for you. It makes you part of a team, and there is strength in that.

“Secondly, you are not the monster that you seem to think you are. That's something that Granny's been trying to get through my head for years, but now... with Victor... I'm finally starting to understand what she meant. Emma, you and I – we've both been left behind. Your parents, that foster family, that stupid VW-stealing jerk face you knew in high school.

“Your parents never knew anything about you, what kind of person you were or would be, but my mom... I grew up with her for twelve years. She knew me for  _ twelve years _ before she decided she couldn't stand to be around me for another minute. So I get it. You start to think that it's because of you. That there's something wrong with you that makes people leave. That you must be some kind of monster. Like there's this clock ticking down every time you meet a new person until the moment that they realize what a monster you really are and run away screaming.

“That's why I brought a new guy home every weekend. If each one was only around for a day, then they'd never see the real monster inside me. But you know what? I'm not a monster and you aren't either. We're not defined by what other people have done to us, by the people who've left us. We make mistakes, sure – we're human beings, like I said. Those mistakes only turn us into monsters if we let them, and you haven't let them. You, my friend, have made something amazing out of yourself, and those jerks that left you behind are missing out on seeing it. It's _their_ loss. Is any of this helping?”

Emma blinked the mist from her eyes, and gave her friend a small tentative smile. “Yes. It is. When the hell did you get to be so wise?”

Ruby chuckled, “All those Saturdays with Granny critiquing my life... I must've picked up a few tidbits involuntarily. So where did you leave it with Killian? Are you guys okay? I'd hate to think all my hard work and manipulation have been ruined already.”

“We're okay.” Emma paused to consider, and raised an eyebrow, tilting her head to one side. “Or at least, we're gonna be okay. I just need to get used to the idea that there's someone besides you and Granny who wants to look out for me.”

“Did you ever consider that there might be a really valid reason that Killian would be over-protective of a woman he cares deeply about?”

Emma was taken aback. She'd been so focused on her own fears and insecurities that she hadn't considered where Killian's protective instinct derived.  She closed her eyes and covered her mouth in horror as the memory of Killian's story came crashing into her consciousness. _Milah and I were talking on the phone. She went out into the parking lot alone, at night. I heard her yelling at someone to get the hell away from her. I heard her scream. Then I heard the gunshot._

Ruby could see the realization dawning in Emma's expression. “And the penny drops.”

Emma scrubbed her hand down her face. “It's because of her. His girlfriend, the one who was killed. He felt like he failed to protect her, so of course he's gonna be protective now. God, I can only imagine what when through his head when he heard me scream at Victor. I'm an idiot.”

“Oh, Honey,” Ruby sighed, “You're not an idiot. Just cut the guy some slack, will ya?”

Emma nodded, her hand still covering her eyes. “Yeah. I think I can do that.”

-x-

As she had forewarned, Emma worked late the next few nights. Emma and Killian chatted online each evening as she worked (just their usual flirtatious banter - Emma didn't dare get into anything more risque on her work-issued laptop), but they didn't see each other. She was so exhausted by the time she actually got back to her apartment, it was all she could manage to wipe off her makeup before crashing into bed.

Thursday evening, still slaving away in her office, Emma noticed that Killian hadn't logged on at the usual time he got home from work, and felt a pang of disappointment. She'd come to rely on his cheeky messages to keep her morale up, and more importantly to keep her awake. Lacking that, she begrudgingly shuffled down the hall to the break room to make a fresh pot of coffee. There was no way in hell she was drinking the last stale dregs that had been sitting out all afternoon – break room coffee was awful enough fresh.

Fifteen minutes later ( _ God, that ancient Brew-o-Matic was slow _ ), steaming mug of caffeinated sludge in hand, Emma heard the very curious sound of two male voices coming from her office.

“...this Emma Swan's office?”  _ Oh. _ That British lilt was unmistakable.

“Uh, yeah, man. You can just set that on the desk. You could've just left it out front in reception. How'd you get back here anyway?”  _ Oh shit.  _ So was Neal's raspy baritone.  _ He thinks Killian's the delivery guy. _

“Elsa let me in.” Killian's tone was still measured, but Emma could hear an edge starting to creep into his voice. She began power-walking down the hallway to her office as fast as she could without sloshing hot coffee all over herself.

“Huh. I guess I'll have to talk to her about office security policy, but that's not on you, man. Here's a couple of bucks for your trouble.”  _ SHIT!  _ Emma sprinted the last few steps to her door, ignoring the trail of coffee droplets she left on the floor in her wake.

“Listen, mate, you've-”

“Hey guys!” Emma chirped dashing into her office, her forced smile bordering on manic. “Killian, Neal. Neal, Killian.” Emma flicked a pointer finger from one man to the other as she made the rapid, half-hearted introduction. “Now anyone want to tell me what you two are doing in my office?”

Killian clenched his jaw and stared stonily at Neal. Neal narrowed his eyes in return, then plastered on his trademark boyish grin and extended a hand toward Killian. “Like the lady said, Neal Cassidy. Sorry for thinking you were the sandwich guy, man. It's just that Emma never mention a -”

“Boyfriend.” Killian stated in a voice that brooked no argument. He gave Neal's proffered hand a cursory glance, then resumed glaring daggers at the other man. “And I'm quite sure Ms. Swan's personal life is none of your concern, so your ignorance is unsurprising.” Neal's smile faltered only slightly, but his eyes turned cold and hard as he lowered his hand.

Emma felt as though she was beginning to drown in a sea of testosterone and male ego. She exhaled sharply through her nose and cleared her throat loudly to get the men's attention. “Again. Why are you two here? In  _ my _ office. Or should I just go get a ruler out of my desk drawer, so we can get  _ that _ dispute out of the way first?”

Both men had the decency to look ashamed for a moment, and again, Neal spoke first. “Sorry, Ems. I just stopped by to check in with you on how the Midas brief is coming along.”

Emma set her half-spilled coffee mug on her desk, and perched herself on the edge of the desktop next to it, crossing her arms. “I have it handled. We can talk about it more next week.”

“Sure thing, Ems.” Neal reached out to her and gave her shoulder an unnecessarily prolonged brush with his hand. Cutting his eyes quickly to Killian's face, then back to Emma, he added “See you tomorrow, gorgeous.”

Killian kept his eyes glued to Neal as he exited Emma's office, and she swore she heard Killian mumble something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like “wanker”. Emma snorted a quiet laugh, and turned a bemused but quizzical expression to Killian. “Hi.”

Killian dropped his eyes to the floor and scratched behind his ear. “Ah... Hi, love.” When he finally managed to meet her eyes again, he found her still watching him expectantly. She wasn't about to make this easy for him. “I come bearing sustenance.” His bashful tone made it almost sound like a question.

Emma turned her attention to the take-out bag on her desk, and her eyes lit in surprise. “You brought me  _ Granny's _ ?” Emma picked up the bag, hopped gleefully from her perch on the desk, and skittered around to her desk chair to unpack this newfound treasure. “You beautiful man! I'm starving.”

“Grilled cheese sandwich and onion rings. Have I done well?” As Emma tore into the wrapper of the sandwich, Killian moved to sit in a chair across from her, his customary swagger returning now that it was apparent Emma was not about to toss him out on his ear.

Emma sighed blissfully as she took a bite of the gooey, greasy mess of a sandwich. “It's perfect,” she mumbled through her mouthful of food. Killian pressed his lips together in a smirk. She closed her eyes and swallowed contentedly. “I can't believe you went to Granny's for the first time without me. And that you came out unscathed.”

Killian's eyebrow shot up as he cocked his head to the side, and cast his eyes down to her desk. “I am not sure that unscathed is entirely accurate. The widow Lucas, upon discerning who I was, may have twisted my ear until my face was pressed against the lunch counter in submission and threatened a number of rather violent acts if I should ever break your heart. I assured her of the purity of my ardor and intentions, and she eventually relented, but my ear may never be the same.” He looked up into Emma's eyes again, a tiny hint of panic evident behind the deep blue irises. “She doesn't really own a cross-bow, does she?”

Emma burst into a full-bodied cackle at the mental image, and tried to cover her mouth with one hand to prevent onion ring shrapnel from spraying across her desk. After taking a few seconds to regain her composure, Emma exclaimed, “She did the ear thing! Oh my god, I  _ hate  _ that. Hurts like hell. I can remember days when she'd snatch my ear with one hand and Ruby's with the other and drag us both back to the kitchen kicking and screaming to give us a good talking to.” Emma unconsciously reached for her own ear and rubbed it gingerly from phantom pain of the memory. 

Now it was Killian's turn to laugh out loud at the imagery. “Now what could you two angels have possibly done to merit such treatment?”

Emma shrugged and pulled her lips into her best Mona Lisa smile. “You'll have to ask me that one again sometime when I've got a couple of shots of rum in me. Anyway, if Granny's already using the ear assault on you, it'll only be a matter of time before she's shouting your full legal name across the diner. She actually made up a middle name for me, just so she had something better to shout.”

Killian raised his brows, intrigued. “So what name should I look forward to hearing her shout at you?”

“Emma Ruth Swan. And what name could I expect to hear shouted in your direction?”

Killian chewed his lower lip, and again his fingers found an itch behind his ear to scratch. “Ah...” he began hesitantly, “It's Fitzwilliam – as in Darcy. Killian Fitzwilliam Jones. My mum was a devotee of Jane Austen.”

Emma lowered her chin, and looked up at him through her eyelashes. “Well, Killian Fitzwilliam Jones, has any one ever told you your eyes turn three shades brighter blue when you're jealous?” she teased.

Killian recoiled with a frown. “I was not and am not jealous of that bloody git I found skulking around your office after hours,” he growled.

Emma hummed, tapping a finger to her chin. “So I see.”

Killian rolled his eyes and exhaled in frustration. “Emma, please tell me that that man is not your 'Mr. Complicated'.” Emma flinched, confirming his suspicions.

“He's just a friend. Or was. I'm not even sure about that anymore. I've... been seeing a different side of him lately.” Emma wiped the grease from her fingers with a paper napkin from the take-out bag. Abandoning her dinner, Emma stood from her chair and walked around her desk to where Killian sat, grazing her fingertips across his shoulder as she passed. He followed her with his eyes as she walked, letting his gaze trail over her form down to her toes and back up to her face as she stood before him. “I think a certain handsome pirate may have had something to do with that.”

Killian's tongue flicked to the side of his mouth, and he extended a hand to caress the curve of Emma's hip, rubbing his thumb across the jut of her hipbone. A slow smile spread across Emma's face, and she settled herself lightly into his lap, draping one arm across the back of the chair behind his shoulders.

Killian nuzzled into her neck, inhaling the scent of her (even if it was tinged with grilled cheese), and wrapped his arms around her waist, linking his hands together on her belly to hold her close. “Swan, I may regret saying this as I'm sure I'm delving into dangerous territory, but I saw the way he way he looked at you. Like a shark circling its prey.” Emma leaned back so that she could meet his eyes, placing her hand on top of his where they were joined at her middle. Killian continued haltingly, “It's my job... I hope it's my job...” Killian looked down at where Emma's hand rested on his. “If you'll allow me, I would like it to be my job to protect your heart. And I can't help but feel that this Neal person is a threat to you.”

“Hey.” Emma spoke softly, and Killian raised his eyes to meet hers again. “The job is yours.” She leaned forward so that their foreheads touched, and felt his body relax under hers in response. “But speaking of jobs, right now my job involves me working on a major project with Neal. One that could land me a promotion to Junior Partner. So at least for the next week or so, I'm going to have to be around him from time to time.” She could feel Killian's sharp intake of breath, but before he could protest, she continued, “I've got my eyes open, though. I won't let him try to pull anything.”

“He's beneath you, Swan.” Killian grumbled, and Emma felt the reverberation of his deep voice through his chest where they were pressed together.

She wiggled her hips suggestively against his thigh, and purred into his ear, “I'd say it's you that's _beneath_ me at the moment.”

Killian tightened his arms around her, and captured her lips with his in a searing kiss. “Swan, I'd be more than happy to be beneath you, above you, beside you, behind you... Whatever the lady wishes.” And his lips were on hers again, his tongue coaxing and teasing. Making her forget she where she was or what she was supposed to be doing. When he'd kissed her thoroughly breathless, she pulled away with a gasp. Emma blinked a few times as she caught her breath, taking in her surroundings before hazarding a glance down at herself and Killian tangled up in each other. One leg of her pants was still bunched in his fist where he'd clenched her thigh. Her blouse was askew where she'd twisted to press her torso closer to his. She was sure her mouth was red and puffy from the ferocity of the kiss, and if Killian's rumpled hair was any indication, she didn't even want to think about the level of dishevelment her own locks must be suffering.

Then she looked in his eyes - his dreamy, fuckstruck, ridiculously blue eyes – and she didn't care anymore. Didn't care what she looked like, or whether anyone might walk past her door and see them. Regina herself could've poofed into Emma's office in a cloud of purple smoke and she wouldn't have cared. Well, okay, maybe then she'd have panicked, but save for that unlikely scenario, all Emma cared about in that moment was that Killian was here. He was here, and he was looking at her with open adoration, and he wanted to be there for her, and he wanted to  _ stay _ . 

Emma smiled down at him, a radiant blossoming smile. Killian was dumbfounded, but couldn't help but smile back as Emma leaned down and pressed one more deep, leisurely kiss to his mouth. As she pulled away, Killian asked, “What was that for, love?”

Emma grave him an elfish grin, “Just because.” As reality began to sink back in, her grin slowly faded into a dejected sigh. “But now I really do have to get back to work or I'm never gonna get out of here,” she pouted. With one final huff, she extricated herself from Killian's embrace and stood. Killian stood as well, as Emma fussed with straightening her clothes.

When she'd made herself somewhat presentable again, Emma turned her attention back to Killian. “You know... that thing you said to Neal... what you called yourself-”

Killian lowered his chin and gave her an indulgent smirk. “You can say 'boyfriend', love,” he chided.

Emma tilted her face to the ceiling, and fiddled with the neckline of her blouse, “Okay...  _ boyfriend _ . So... is that like... a thing now?”  _ God, I sound like the biggest idiot. I write words for a living. Why can't I make words?!? _

Killian's voice took on that earnestness that made Emma melt, “It can be a  _ thing _ as you call it, if you want it to be.” He stepped closer to Emma and took her hands in his.

Their eyes met, sea green and sky blue. “I want it to be,” she breathed. Killian began to lean towards her again, but she stopped him with her fingers to his lips. “Unh-uh. None of that, mister. If we start that again, I will never get my work done. Wouldn't you rather have me at home with you this weekend instead of toiling away here at my desk?”

“You make a persuasive argument, love. I've no doubt you're one hell of a lawyer.” He lifted one of her hands and pressed a kiss to her palm, sending goosebumps up Emma's arm. “I shall see you tomorrow, then.”

“See you tomorrow, Killian Fitzwilliam Jones.”

Emma closed her office door behind him and sat back down at her desk. She opened the document she'd been working on, but before setting her fingers to the keyboard a thought popped into her mind. Elsa let Killian into the office suite. Elsa would've had to have walked past first the break room (seeing that Emma was in there) and then Emma's office (seeing that Neal was in it and Emma was not) before she reached the front desk to buzz Killian inside.

She dialed Elsa's extension, hoping her friend was still at her desk, too. After two rings, Elsa's voice came on the line sounding unusually animated. “Did he punch him in the face?”

“What?!?”

“Killian. Did he punch Cassidy in the face when he found him in your office?”

“Oh my god, Elsa, did you seriously let Killian in without telling me so that he would walk in and find Neal and punch him?”

“I just set up the dominoes. They don't necessarily fall the way I want them to, but, you know... I tried a thing.”

“ _Why_ would you think that Killian would just randomly punch Neal?”

“I figured Neal would make some kind of asshole comment to warrant it. Like I said, I just set up the dominoes. So, did he? Punch Neal, I mean. You are not answering my very important question.”

“No. He did not. They just glared at each other like dumbass high-school boys.”

“Damn. Maybe next time.”

“I've got to get new friends...” Emma dropped her face into her palm and hung up the phone.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi readers! I'm so sorry I keep getting slower and slower with the updates. Life just happens sometimes.  
> I am so thrilled with the response that I've had to this little story! I love reading your comments, so please keep them coming! This is literally the first fiction I've ever written (fan fic or otherwise), so I need all the encouragement and constructive criticism I can get.  
> Thanks for sticking around!  
> Also... Anybody up for making me some cover art and/or manips to go with this? Anyone?  
> -HD


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Confession - I got totally stuck trying to write this, hence the long delay between chapters. HUGE THANKS to captainswannl29 and accio-ambition for brainstorming, beta-ing, editing, and listening to me whine!
> 
> I made a point of asking for reader comments with my last chapter, and lo and behold, you guys delivered. It was awesome! So, I’m asking again: please send me your comments, or just hit up my ask box on Tumblr to say “Hi”! I love hearing from you!
> 
> -HD

Friday morning, Emma was surprised to find Neal sitting in her office when she arrived at work. She was struck by his uncharacteristically somber expression and wringing hands. “Hey...” she greeted him tentatively, “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, no...”  He indicated the other chair with a bob of his head, “Come sit down, Ems.  I feel like I owe you an apology.”

Emma raised her eyebrows but moved to the chair across from Neal and took a seat. “Is this about last night?  That was a pretty interesting display of male ego...”

“Well, yeah, there's that.”  Neal looked down as he spoke and tapped his fingers against his knee in a tic that Emma now recognized as a tell of his nervousness. “Sorry for being such a jackass.  I guess it just did something to me to see that other guy trying to mark you as his territory.” Emma bristled slightly at that. _Killian called himself my boyfriend. It’s not like he peed on my leg or something._

Seeming to sense her displeasure, Neal looked up at Emma with a wistful half-smile.  “I think you can do better, Ems, but I can't really blame the dude for wanting to stake a claim on you.”

Emma felt a little prickle of heat in her cheeks, and furrowed her brows. _What the hell is he trying to say here?_

After a beat, Neal continued, “But that isn't the only reason I wanted to apologize.  I know I've been acting weird this week. I'm just really sweating this Midas case stuff.  I didn't tell you this before because... well... I didn't want you think less of me, but I'm kind of on a probation here at GMM.  Before they transferred me to Dallas, I had a case that went to shit.  I fucked up and missed a deadline, and it ended up costing the client a lot – and I do mean a LOT – of money.  Gold took over the case and got it sorted out with the client, but he decided that I needed to move to the Dallas office so he could 'keep an eye on me'.”

Emma grimaced in empathy. It was the kind of mistake that could happen to anyone. _Just one wrong date entry on a calendar and BAM!  You're screwed. But for the grace of Elsa go I..._

“Geez.  That's rough.  It must've been a pretty big client for Gold to get so directly involved, too.”

Neal pursed his lips to the side.  “Yeah, something like that.  Anyway, I just really need this Midas stuff to go well, so I can, you know, redeem myself and get back out from under Gold's thumb.  Show them all I'm still partner material.”

Emma nodded her understanding.  “I get that.”

Neal took a deep breath.  “Thanks, Ems.  So, back to my original apology.  I'm sorry if I've been a little too forward with you.  I guess I was trying to keep you close, and went about it the wrong way.  I just really need to have someone in my corner right now, you know?  And it's probably backfired and I've skeeved you out...”

_I can definitely understand wanting someone to have your back,_ Emma thought.  She shrugged and gave Neal a small smile.  “Ehn.  I'm a big girl.  I can handle it.  Just... you know, take it down a notch.”

Neal's eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled at her in earnest. “So apology accepted?”

Emma rolled her eyes and smiled back.  “I suppose so.  Hey, can I borrow Belle today? I want to go over all the research stuff with her.”

Neal stood and gave her a firm nod, “Sure thing, Ems.  I'll send her your way.” He paused and raised an eyebrow at her mischievously, “Would it piss off Sandwich Guy if I still bring you coffee sometimes?”

Emma looked to the ceiling and shook her head in exaggerated annoyance. “His name is Killian.”  Looking back at Neal, Emma cocked an eyebrow and shrugged one shoulder, “But... seeing as how coffee is necessary to my personal survival, I suppose a caffeine-offering every once in a while wouldn't hurt anything.”

“You really are the best, Ems.” Neal stepped backwards and flashed Emma his most winning smile.  “Got a meeting with Gold now, so I've gotta jet.”  He turned away from Emma and began walking to the door, but before he'd gone three steps, he paused, snapping his fingers and pointing at the air.

“Almost forgot.” Neal turned back to face Emma. “The summer intern starts Monday, and Gold wants some of the associates to take her out on the town next Friday night.  She's like some hotshot wunderkind that he's trying to lure to the firm, so we're supposed to really impress her.  Name's Tamara something. I don't know.” Neal shrugged, and went on. “Anyway, you should be there.  Bring Lucas, too.  She's your roommate or whatever, right?”

“Yeah, okay...” Emma paused to think.  “Wait.  No, Ruby won't be able to make it.  She's going out of town next week for more depositions and won't be back until Saturday morning.  But, yeah – I'll help woo the intern.”

“Great! I'll round up Booth and some others, and we can work out the details later.  See ya, Ems.”  And with a wink, he walked away.

-x-

About half an hour later as Emma was draining her second cup of coffee, a petite brunette peeked around her open door with a hesitant knock. “Mr. Cassidy said you wanted to see me?”

Emma detected a slight accent in the woman's voice. _What is that?  Australian?  New Zealand?_ Emma smiled and gestured to a chair opposite her desk. “Hi! Yeah, come on in and have a seat.”

The woman smiled back and moved to the chair.  After settling down with a pen in hand and legal pad on her knee, she looked up at Emma with congenial blue eyes. “I don't think we've formally met.  Belle French, Mr. Cassidy's assistant.”

“Emma Swan, and you can just call me Emma.”  She gave Belle a quizzical look. “Does Neal make you call him Mr. Cassidy?”

“Well it's nice to meet you, _Emma_ ,” Belle replied, then assumed a tone of exaggerated solemnity,  “ _Mr. Cassidy_ insists that we must always maintain a certain level of professionalism.  I honestly don't know if that's him being him or one more way to try to endear himself to the top brass.  You know the whole 'GMM image' thing.”  

Emma nodded gravely. “Oh, of course.” Then her poker face broke and she let slip a snicker, which Belle returned. _I think I like her,_ Emma thought.  “Well anyway, what I wanted to talk to you about is that brief I'm working on for the Midas case.”

Belle tilted her head to the side inquisitively, “All the research you've been emailing me?  He's had me compiling and indexing it all for him to use at the hearing.  Is that not right?”

“No, no.  I suppose he would want you to do that to prep him for the hearing.  It was just... odd... I guess.  The other day, he made it sound like he'd never seen any of it.”

Belle laughed in earnest then.  “Well, that would be because he hasn't.   _Mr. Cassidy_ has this _process,_ he calls it, to prepare for court, where basically I do everything to prepare – research, notes, tabbing, indexing, outlining, you name it.  I make him a big three-ring binder with everything, and he takes it home the weekend before and crams like a final exam at university.”

Emma raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms. “Mm-hmm... So then, I don't suppose he's read any of the draft of the brief, either?”

Belle quirked her mouth to the side in thought.  “Now, _that_ I honestly don't know about.  I'm fairly sure he's at least glanced through it.  He would've had to have done that or he'd really look a fool in his progress meeting with Gold today.”  Belle paused, then added,  “If you're curious, you could always look through the tracking on the redline draft.”

Emma furrowed her brows, “What do you mean?  I thought that just tracked what changes had been made to a file...”

Belle chuckled, “I see Elsa the Omnipotent has been hiding some of her secrets from you.  The tracking software shows you all the changes made to the documents, but it also notes _which user_ made each change or accessed the file and _when_.  It's one of the ways Elsa makes herself seem all-knowing. When she gets suspicious that one of the paralegals is slacking or pawning work off on someone else, she'll go through the tracking data on all the files that person supposedly worked on to see if they actually did the work or not.”

Emma raised her eyebrows, thoroughly impressed.  “That sneaky little genius. Can you show me how to do it? I wanna know if she's been playing minesweeper when she tells me she's drafting production requests.”

Belle grinned.  “Sure!  Do you mind if I...”  She gestured at Emma's laptop.

Emma scooted her chair away from the desk and stood, waving at Belle to come over and take her now vacant seat. “Yeah, by all means.”  

Belle perched in Emma's chair and began clicking away.

-x-

At 5:00 p.m. on the dot, Emma knocked on the door of Ruby's office.  “Hey Ruby-woo, you think you've worked hard enough for this week?”

“Yes, for God's sake, get me out of here.”

Emma laughed. “Let's go do happy hour,” she beseeched, “We haven't done that in forever.”

Ruby nodded emphatically, “Done.”  She paused, biting her lower lip, then added, “Oh... um, not to be _that girl_ but... Victor's on his way into town.  Can he meet us?”

“Awwww...” Emma sing-songed, clasping her hands beneath her tilted head, “Did you _miss_ him?”

Ruby frowned and swatted Emma on the arm. “Hey.  I'll take none of that from you, missy.  YOU'RE one to talk. Speaking of – how's the boyfriend?”

“He's great,” Emma answered automatically, “I mean there was this thing-” Emma cut herself short at Ruby's raised eyebrows. Emma looked down at the floor in what she hoped was a nonchalant manner. “I supposed your face is because I just blew right past the word 'boyfriend' without having a panic attack?”

Ruby pressed her lips together and nodded, “Mm-hm.  Care to elaborate?”

Emma canted her head to the side, eyes to the ceiling, “Well...” She proceeded to give Ruby the run-down on the previous evening's confrontation between Neal and Killian, including Killian's declaration of himself as her boyfriend.  Ruby gasped, giggled and squealed, even going so far as to wipe a phantom tear from her eye, at all the appropriate points in the story. She pressed for as many details as possible of the intense, if short-lived, office make-out session that had followed.

“Oh, honey,” Ruby fanned her face with her hand as if her eyes were getting misty. “Getting busy at the office?  I'm just...” She shook her head at Emma with an almost maternal expression of affection, “I'm just so _proud._ ”

Emma rolled her eyes and snorted a laughed.  “Geez... Anyway, to your original question, yes.  Victor can meet us.  I'll call Killian and maybe he can meet us, too.”

“And Killian is your....?” Ruby cupped her hand behind her ear as if to hear better.

“Gosh, grandma, what big ears you have,” Emma responded with as much sarcasm as possible. “Boyfriend.  He's my boyfriend, okay?”

Ruby cackled and steepled her fingers. “The better to hear you with, my dear!”

Emma scrunched her mouth to the side.  “Maybe I don't want to go drinking with you after all.  You're just gonna try to embarrass me for your own amusement.” Emma paused as the light bulb clicked on in her brain. _What if we had someone else to embarrass for our amusement?_ “Any idea if Graham is driving up here with Victor?”

Ruby thought for a second and furrowed her brows, “Yeah, I think so. Why?”

“Oh, I was just thinking we should go see if Elsa wants to tag along.” Emma replied innocently. “I mean, your evil plan for me and Killian is going along just fine... I thought you might have time to work on another?”

Ruby's answering smile bordered on feral.  “You call Killian and grab Elsa.  I'll call Vic and meet you downstairs in ten minutes.”

-x-

As it turned out, Killian had to finish up a project at work, and Victor and Graham were stuck behind road construction traffic on I-45, so the ladies were on their own for happy hour, but with promises from the men that they would join them at the bar later. Elsa, too, had to finish scanning a pile of documents to be saved in the firm servers (“I'm all for saving the planet, but this 'paperless office' business is killing me”), and the job had taken well over an hour even with Emma and Ruby helping.  It was nearly seven o'clock before the three women finally arrived at The Rabbit Hole.  

The place was already getting crowded, so Ruby snagged a table while Emma and Elsa headed to the bar to order.  Emma caught the eye of the nearest bar tender, “Are we too late for the happy hour specials?”

“Nope!  You just made it in time,” the man responded genially.  “What can I get you?”

Elsa surveyed the specials menu. “Let's have one of the appetizer samplers, and a pitcher of margaritas.”

“Rocks or frozen?”

Elsa scowled. “Frozen, obviously,” she answered as if any other idea was ridiculous.

“Have it right out!” the bartender replied, and with a tap of his hand against the counter, he turned and began entering the order into a touchscreen behind the bar.

As the two walked back to the table Ruby had claimed for them, Emma gave Elsa a sidelong glance and chuckled.  

“What?” Elsa retorted. “Everyone knows the frozen ones are better.  They barely put any tequila in the other ones – they're basically limeade.”

“True, but the Rabbit Hole Frozen Ritas are notorious for knocking you on your ass after a couple of sips…”

Elsa raised her brows at Emma and blinked impatiently. “Your point?”

As they both sat down at the table, Emma raised her hands in a conciliatory gesture, “Hey, you'll get no argument from me. Do youneed a _particularly_ stiff drink today?”

Elsa huffed, “Since you asked...” and launched into a diatribe about an especially high-strung client that she'd had to spend the entire afternoon with on the phone. (“And you _know_ I'm not the hand-holding type.”)

Elsa was so consumed with her rant, she didn't notice that Ruby leaned over and whispered in Emma's ear, “Did you tell her we invited Graham?”

Emma's shoulders twitched as she suppressed a laugh. “Nope.”

Ruby covered her chuckle with a cough. “This'll be interesting...”

The drinks and food arrived and as each woman poured herself a margarita from the pitcher, it was Ruby's turn to gush excitedly about her upcoming work trip.  (“Y'all, I really think if I can break one more of their witnesses like I did last time, the other side will agree to settle and it's gonna be HUGE!”) With a clink of their margarita glasses, Emma and Elsa gave Ruby their full vote of confidence.  Ruby beamed at her friends, and then turned to Emma, “How about you, girl?”

Emma paused thoughtfully, enjoying the slowly rising buzz of tequila in her veins.  “Hmm... Right now as far as work, y'all already know I'm working on that Midas appeal.  I already told you both my story about Neal and Killian acting like idiots in my office last night. Oh!  I met Belle today, and she taught me one of _your_ little tricks.” Emma gave Elsa a pointed glare.

Elsa frowned.  “Which one?”

“How many are there?”

“Not telling,” Elsa smirked.

Emma rolled her eyes and shook her head, “The one where you can check the tracking data on a document.”

“Ah!” Elsa smiled wistfully.  “One of my favorites.  What did you think of Belle?”

“You're right.  She's good people.  She also offered to help me with some formatting stuff on the Midas brief.”

“Thank God.”  Elsa replied.  “No offense, Honey, but I didn't want to touch that thing if it was going to have Cassidy's fingerprints on it anywhere.  More power to you and Belle.”

“Hey!”  Emma answered, pouring herself another drink from the pitcher, “You know, I think maybe we've been too hard on Neal.  He came by and apologized today for the way he's been acting. Like a legitimate apology. Told me he's been really freaking out about the Midas case because he's like, on probation or something. Did y'all know he got transferred here because he screwed up some case and Gold wanted him directly under his thumb?”   _Ooh, these ‘ritas really are strong... I'm already throwing the 'likes' and 'y'alls' in everywhere._

Ruby shook her head, but Elsa answered, “I'd heard about him screwing up some case a while back, but I didn't know he was on probation.  That would explain all his little closed-door meetings with Gold.”

“How'd he screw up the case?” Ruby asked.

“He said he missed a deadline and cost a client a bunch of money.  Coulda happened to anyone.  Except _me_ 'cause I have _you._ ”  Emma directed the last line at Elsa and punctuated it with a kissy face.

“And don't you forget it!”  Elsa gave Emma a saucy wink.

“Okay, you two need to slow down on the booze.  Emma, you love everybody when you're tipsy, and Elsa, you just get... weird.” Ruby admonished.  “Geez, am I the only one around here who can hold her tequila?”

“Aww... Mama Ruby, you take good care of us.”  Emma slung an arm around Ruby's shoulder and squeezed.  

Ruby snickered. “Alright, no need to get mushy. So, you think Neal's on the level, then?  That you can trust him?”

Emma shrugged and shook her head.  “I dunno.  I mean, like, other than the last couple of weeks, he's never been anything but nice to me, and if he really is under all that pressure from Gold, then his weirdness at least kind of makes sense.  I also kinda got the vibe that he and Mary Margaret are on the outs... he didn't actually say that, though.”  Emma sighed, leaning heavily with her elbow onto the table.  “I dunno what to think. I wish I had my compass,” she mumbled.  Emma plunked her chin into her hand, and sipped her drink through the straw.

Elsa and Ruby shared a confused look.  “Your compass?” Ruby asked.

“Yeah... oh, this is silly.  Dunno why I thought of that just now.” Emma pushed her hair behind her ears, and kept her eyes on her margarita, seeming to talk almost more to the drink than her friends. “See... back when I was in the system, sometimes we'd get toys and stuff that people had donated.  When I was... hmm, ten or eleven maybe? I found this little toy compass in one of the donation boxes.  I liked the idea of it.  I was this lost little girl, and here was this thing that was supposed to help people get... you know, like, _un-lost_ . Find their way home.” Emma leaned in and took another pull on her straw. “So, I hung on to it like a lucky charm or something. Whenever I was feeling 'specially lost or confused, I would take it out and look at it.” Emma held out her cupped hand as if the phantom object lay in her palm.  “Made me feel like someday maybe I'd find my way or figure out the right path or finally find the things I'd been wanting. Love. Home. Whatever.”  Emma shrugged sheepishly.  “I guess it sorta gave me hope.  Until some rat bastard mean kid at one of the group homes stole it and smashed it right in front of me.  After that I kinda figured hope is for suckers. Anyways, I guess I just figure I could use a little _direction_ right now.”

Elsa practically snarled.  “What was the kid's name?  I'll track him down and kick his ass!”

Emma broke out into a full laugh, and placed her hand on Elsa's forearm.  “Down girl!  Geez, it was years ago and...” Emma stopped and quirked an eyebrow.  “Wait, you can do that?”

Elsa patted Emma on the head. “Oh, you sweet innocent thing.  We work for a law firm. We run background checks all the time, criminal histories, property records, all kinds of stuff.  Access to all kinds of databases.  If a thing is in a public record somewhere, I can find it.”

Emma and Ruby looked at her in genuine awe.  Ruby raised her glass to Elsa, “You are truly terrifying, my friend. I love it!”

Elsa grinned, gratified.  “Honestly, I don't know where you attorneys think all that evidence we paralegals hand you comes from.  You think the clients give us that shit?"  Elsa dismissed the offending notion with a dramatic wave, then suddenly froze. Her mouth dropped open.  Emma and Ruby followed the line of her stare and broke into simultaneous grins. Killian, Victor and Graham were standing by the front entrance, scanning the crowd.

Ruby half-stood from her seat, put her forefinger and thumb in her mouth, and whistled loudly enough to get the men's attention over the noise of the bar.  “Hey, boys!  Come on over!” she called, waving them towards the table.

Emma glanced back at Elsa, noting her still slack-jawed expression.  Emma placed two fingers lightly under her friend's chin, and lifted.  The resulting click of Elsa's teeth seemed to jar Elsa back to awareness, and she immediately straightened her posture, crossed her arms and assumed her more customary icy demeanor.

Emma tilted her head as far back as she could as Killian walked around behind her chair, and he leaned down to press a quick kiss to her lips.  “I hope we haven't kept you lovelies waiting too long?”  Emma reached out and gave his rear a couple of pats before he could take his seat next to her, which earned her a surprised smirk from him.

“Not at all,” Ruby answered, and Emma noted with interest Ruby and Victor's linked hands.  “You're really here at a great time.  These two,” she indicated Emma and Elsa with a rather accusatory finger, “are each at least two margaritas in, and are rapidly becoming entertaining.  Emma has already been Huggy, Talky and Handsy, and Elsa is fluctuating between Braggy and Rage-y.  One more drink a piece and I think they'll make it through all seven dwarves.”

Victor laughed, “Well then, the next round's on me.  I'd hate to see any drunken dwarves get left out.  Which one do you turn into, Babe?” he asked Ruby.

“Horny. Like you don't already know,” she purred trailing a fingernail down his chest.

Victor's hand shot into the air and waved to the nearest waitress. “Miss!  Please bring these ladies anything their hearts desire. And keep the tab open.”

Graham leaned nearer to Elsa who was studiously examining her nails. “So, what's your heart's desire, Princess?”

She finally turned to him with an intentionally fake smile and said in her most sugary voice, “Better company.” She threw in a bat of her eyes to drive the point home.

Graham placed a hand over his heart and clutched his shirt, grunting in apparent pain. “I'm _crushed!_  Would you settle for another one of your ridiculous tequila slushies?”

“I suppose you have a better suggestion?” Elsa raised a disdainful eyebrow, but Emma could see the sparks flare to life in her friend's eyes.

“Well, there's nothing better than a fine Irish whiskey...”

“Maybe if you're a sixty-year-old banker.” Elsa scoffed.

“So you're saying I have sophisticated taste beyond my years.”

“Ah, mate...” Killian interjected, “I'm not so sure it's smart to-”

“Any smarts that your mate has,” Elsa interrupted, “are located squarely in his ass.”

Graham broke into a thoroughly pleased grin. “I just knew you were checking out my ass, Princess!”

Killian opened his mouth to make another attempt at defusing the argument, but Emma silenced him with a pat on the wrist.  As Elsa and Graham continued their bickering, Emma leaned in close to Killian's ear and whispered, “They're having fun.  Just enjoy the show.”  Killian chuckled under his breath and relaxed back in his chair, Emma's hand still resting on top of his.

 Ruby, however, was apparently getting bored with sitting still. “Anybody up for a game of darts?” she inquired of the table at large.

Victor wrapped an arm around Ruby's shoulder and pulled her in to kiss her cheek.  “Sure, Babe.  Let's give those two some sharp, pointy projectiles.” He nodded in Graham and Elsa's direction.  “What could go wrong?”

-x-

For the first two rounds of darts, the group had played Guys vs. Girls.  While there were no casualties, the taunting and bickering between Graham and Elsa remained constant, and, if anything worsened when it became apparent that Graham was a ringer. He hit a perfect bull’s-eye every time.

By the second round, Elsa was irate. Convinced he was somehow cheating, she demanded to stand immediately next to him each time he threw and that she alone be allowed to hand him the darts. (“I wanna make sure he's not hiding loaded darts up his sleeve or something.”)

Emma and Ruby (who had now caught up in tequila units) found the whole spectacle hilarious.  Emma leaned heavily against Ruby's shoulder and wrapped an arm around her friend's neck.  Emma held up a finger on each hand, so that from their perspective it looked like one finger was behind Graham's head and the other behind Elsa's.  Emma pushed her fingers towards each other as if attempting to push Graham and Elsa together telekinetically, and murmured, “Now _kiss!_ ” causing Ruby to burst into a fit of giggles, which Emma soon joined.

Elsa leveled an unamused glare at her friends which, of course, made them laugh harder. Then she turned back to Graham, standing right in his personal space and directly in line between him and the dart board.  “It's just not natural that you never miss.  There's gotta be some trick.”

“No trick,” he rejoined with a smirk.  “Just a lot of practice, and of course...” he raised his throwing hand and wiggled his fingers at Elsa, “my magic hands.”

Elsa's eyes widened and she actually for a split second looked flustered.  Ruby, feeling the need to make matters worse, offered up, “Hey, if you're so worried about him cheating, why don't you just play on his team?  Then if he _is_ cheating, it'll help you win!”

“Yeah,” Emma chimed in, “I was gonna go get a glass of water from the bar anyway. You and Graham can play Vic and Ruby.  Y'all have fun.  We'll play the winners when we get back.”

“When _we_ get back, love?” Killian asked sitting up straighter.

“Don't you want to escort me?” Emma stood and walked over to where Killian sat. She idly twirled a strand of her hair as she continued, “You just never know what kind of brigands might try to waylay a lady wandering around a place like this on her own.” She extended her hand and he took it, pulling himself up and her closer to him at the same time.  Killian released her hand, and Emma wrapped her arms around his waist.

Killian flashed his pirate's smile down at her, “Well, then. That settles it.  You're not getting way _laid_ by anyone but me.”

Elsa huffed, “You're actually abandoning me to _this guy_?” She flicked her hand in Graham's direction.

He, in turn, flicked his hand in her direction.  However, Graham's hand at the moment of flicking had contained a dart, which sailed right past Elsa’s face, missing her ear by centimeters, and hit (yet another) perfect bull’s-eye.  Elsa gaped at him in fury.  “Are you crazy?  You could’ve killed me!  Who does that?  Were you raised by wolves or something?”

Graham seemed unperturbed. “Like you said, Princess. I never miss.”

Emma nudged Killian in the ribs.  “I think now would be a good time to escape before Elsa starts, like, stomping her foot or something.”  Killian nodded his agreement, and the two walked together back towards the bar.

-x-

After taking a few sips of water, Emma ran an arm under her hair and lifted it up off of her shoulders, using her other hand to fan the back of her neck.  She wasn't sure if it was the thick crowd of bar patrons, the tequila, or the nearness of Killian, but she was feeling very... warm. Killian, for his part, took advantage of the opportunity to trace slow circles with his fingers against the now exposed flesh of her neck.  

Emma closed her eyes and smiled to herself, leaning into his touch. “So I take it you're not in any hurry to get back to the others, either?” She let go of her hair, allowing it to fall across her back and shoulders again. Killian removed his hand from the back of her neck, slowly caressing a trail across her shoulder and down her arm to finally lace their fingers together.

“Can't say as I am, love.”  He gestured to something on the far side of the room.  “As a matter of fact, I was just thinking that I've got a few quarters I might like to drop in that jukebox over there.  Care to advise me on my musical selections?”

Emma looked across the room to the indicated device, then back at Killian feigning confusion.  “That jukebox there?”

Killian's teeth caught his lower lip. “Aye.”

Emma took a step closer to him.  She raised their joined hands and wrapped his arm around her waist. She released his hand, and he pulled her closer still.  She pressed both her palms to his chest, and looked up at him through inky lashes.  “That jukebox over there right next to the dark and mostly secluded looking corner?”

Killian shrugged, “Tactical vantage point, Swan.  We could still monitor our friends to see how their game is progressing...”

“But they couldn't see us.” Emma finished with a slow grin.  “You know, a little bit of music sounds pretty good right about now.”

-x-

Upon closer inspection, it became clear the jukebox was in a dark, secluded corner because it was out of order.  Emma pouted for only a second.  Then with a shrug, she pounced on Killian, grabbing a fistful of his t-shirt and pulling his lips to hers as she walked them backwards towards the nearest wall. Breaking the kiss momentarily, she managed to breath out, “Oh well, we tried.”

Killian pressed her back firmly against the wall, their bodies flush against each other. “Can't blame us if the bloody thing's broken.” Then his mouth was on hers again, hot and insistent.  He threaded the fingers of one hand into her hair, angling her head to deepen the kiss.  His tongue traced across her lower lip, seeking permission, and she opened to him readily, even greedily.

Want began to pool low in Emma's belly.  Her skin felt starved for his touch.  She needed more of him, needed him closer.  Her hands found his belt loops and pulled his hips harder against hers, eliciting a groan of desire from him that matched the more obvious (and admittedly impressive) evidence of his desire, which was now pressing hard against her pelvis. Their lower halves were finding a subtle, steady rhythm against each other now, each press sending flames coursing through Emma's blood. She slipped her fingers under the hem of his t-shirt and began exploring the contours of his back, relishing the feel of smooth skin over corded muscle. Her nails bit into his flesh as his teeth nipped at the side of her throat, making both of them gasp.

Killian pulled back to look at her, and Emma slowly lowered her hands back to her side.  Her body felt cold with his sudden absence, her palms already aching with the need to feel him again.  His eyes were dark and hooded, but the expression in them so tender it nearly broke Emma's heart.  “You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen, love,” he breathed, his voice as soft as a prayer.

Emma couldn't speak.  Her veins were too full of fire and tequila and Killian - his scent, his taste, his warmth.  She reached up to gently caress his face, running her thumbs along his jawline as he gazed at her.  Then, she carded her fingers through the soft hair at the nape of his neck and let her lips retrace the path across his jaw that her thumbs had just completed, savoring the burn of his scruff against her mouth and cheek.

By the time she nipped his earlobe, his body collided with hers again, his teeth and tongue alternately biting and soothing the soft flesh where her neck met her shoulder. Emma whimpered in pleasure, her entire being suffused with his heat.  A small voice in the back of her mind reminded her that maybe they should take these activities somewhere more private, but that voice was drowned as Killian gently nudged his knee between her legs, and she pressed herself against his thigh.  She began, slowly at first, then with increasing need and fervor, rocking her hips against him seeking sensation and friction, her breathing becoming fast and shallow. Killian slowly, torturously slid his hands from their resting place on her hips up her sides to her ribs. He began to just barely graze the underside of her breasts with the pad of his thumbs -

“WATCH THE HANDS THERE, BUDDY!” Elsa's voice rang out.

Emma and Killian both jumped as if they'd been scalded. They broke apart rather guiltily, and immediately saw the source of the commotion.

“Hey, don't flatter yourself, Princess.  I was just trying to help you with your form.  I'm sick of having to carry this team myself.”  Graham's annoyed drawl floated across the crowded bar.

Emma and Killian met each other's eyes again, and sighed in resignation. Killian lowered his head and scratched awkwardly behind his ear.  “Ah... to be continued, lass?”

Emma grinned mischievously and quirked an eyebrow at him, “Aye.”  She nodded her head in the direction of their friends.  “But we should probably go back over there now.”

When they arrived, Killian stepped up close behind Emma and wrapped his arms around her waist, resting his chin on her shoulder.  Ruby gave Emma the once-over and whistled. “Well, you look like you just did the do.  Hey, Elsa, guess you’re not the only one who just got felt up!”

Emma could feel all the blood rush to her face, but before she could speak, Ruby continued, “Don't worry, Honey, I'm not gonna ask.  Well... I mean, I'm gonna ask.  In detail.  Just not now.”

“Anyway...” Emma rolled her eyes, and could feel Killian's chest shake with silent laughter where he was pressed against her back.  “Seriously, what the hell is going on over here?”

“That cretin tried to cop a feel.” Elsa growled, never taking her eyes off of Graham.

Graham leaned a hip casually against a table and met her stare, refusing to back down.  “She wishes.  Geez, why does everything have to be a battle with you?  Can't a guy just try to help you without being accused of being some kind of pervert?  For fuck's sake, don't be such a priss!”

“God, do you ever shut up?”

“Why don't you make me, _Princess!_ ”

Suddenly to everyone's surprise, not the least of all Graham's, Elsa grabbed the edges of his vest and pushed him back, pinning him against the table at the hips and kissing him passionately.  Graham's hands automatically slammed against the table's edge to brace himself, and it seemed to take his brain several seconds to process the startling turn of events. When it did, he responded enthusiastically, wrapping his arms around her waist and reciprocating her passion in kind.  

After letting the couple have their fun for a bit longer, Victor cleared his throat loudly.  The sound seemed to remind Elsa where she was, and she released Graham from her clutches.  Graham grinned abashedly at Elsa.  “I may have copped a feel just a little bit.”

Elsa smiled back.  “I know.  I kinda liked it.”

  
  
  


  
  
  


 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Okay, folks, I apologize again for the delay in this update. If it makes you feel any better, you are in for over 8K words of mostly fluff and a bit of content that arguably pushes the T rating of this story into M territory (not sure where the line is). Just remember, if a writer gives you this much fluff, you should be very suspicious of what may be coming up next.
> 
> See something you like? See something you hate? Tell me about it! I love reading reviews and constructive criticism. It lets me know you care *heart eyes*

Emma awoke the next morning to the gentle caress of Killian brushing a lock of hair from her face. She turned her head slightly to give his hand a quick peck as he retracted it, and mumbled, "Wha' time's it?"

Killian chuckled softly. "It's nearly nine. I hate to wake you when you looked so peaceful, but we're due to meet everyone for brunch at Granny's in an hour."

"Brunch?" The word rattled around in Emma's sleep-addled mind, knocking loose a memory from the night before. Something about cheering loudly after Elsa's lip-lock with Graham, and insisting everyone go to Granny's the next day for celebratory pancakes.

And hugging. She remembered lots of hugging.

Killian watched with a smirk as recognition dawned in Emma's eyes. "And the penny drops." He reached out an index finger to tap the tip of her nose. "You were so happy, love. Honestly, I've never seen a happier drunk in my life." Emma huffed indignantly at that, but Killian went on. "You toasted Elsa and Graham by downing the last of Ruby's margarita, and then hugged everyone. Including - I might mention - a few strangers from the next table."

Emma felt a blush creeping over her cheeks and pulled the covers over her head with a groan. Killian raised the blanket to peek at her, and she grinned sheepishly at him. "You know, Swan, I believe Ruby was right. You do get very… friendly when you've been imbibing." He flipped the blanket back, uncovering Emma's face, and then pulled the neck of his t-shirt down exposing his collar bone and the deep purple hickey marked just below it.

Emma's eyes widened, and she reached tentative fingers up to gingerly touch the spot. "Um… oops?"

"Oops indeed, love," Killian teased. "You did  _that_ while I was driving us home and I nearly swerved off the road. I've thought many a time that you'd be the death of me, but that was the first time I'd ever meant it literally."

Emma hid her face in the pillow and muttered a muffled, "Sorry."

Killian laughed. "No need to be sorry, darling. After I recovered control of myself and the vehicle, I suggested that perhaps you shouldn't start anything that you were too tired to finish. You patted my shoulder and said, 'Okay,' and then promptly fell asleep in the car, sno-" he paused and cleared his throat. "I mean,  _purring_  - rather loudly. You didn't even wake when I carried you up to bed." Killian paused again, a hint of shyness in his eyes as he scratched behind his ear. "I hope you aren't upset by my bringing you back to my flat. I assure you nothing untoward happened while you were asleep."

Emma hummed and raised herself up on one elbow, kicking off the covers and looking down to her legs. "I suppose that explains why I'm still wearing my work clothes from yesterday." She sighed, shaking her head. "You could've at least woken me up to change clothes. Just remember that for next time."

Killian raised a questioning eyebrow. "Next time?"

Emma bashfully cast her eyes down and to the side. "Well… you know. If I should ever fall asleep in your car, or on your couch or whatever. Wake me up long enough, so I can snag one of your t-shirts to sleep in."

Killian pressed his lips together in a grin. "Rather than sending you home to your own bed, you mean?"

Emma smiled and tousled his hair. "Maybe I like waking up next to you. Is that so bad?"

Killian furrowed his brow in mock seriousness. "I don't know, Swan. You still haven't returned the shirt I lent you from your first sleepover."

She bit her lower lip and shrugged. "Maybe I'm starting a collection."

Killian's tongue darted to the corner of his mouth and he smiled broadly at her. She rolled her eyes and smiled back, then looked up at him hopefully. "Coffee?"

"Aye, love," Killian replied, climbing out of the bed. He offered his hand to Emma, and she grasped it, pulling herself up to standing. Still holding her hand, Killian turned and led her towards the kitchen. "I've got a pot started, and it should be ready by now. I bought some cinnamon vanilla coffee-creamer, too. It's not exactly Starbucks, but I thought you might fancy it."

Emma giggled. "So you were thinking about me at the grocery store?" she teased, giving his side a squeeze with her free hand.

Killian twitched, apparently ticklish, and turned to face her. He placed his hands on either side of her waist, and again Emma could see that hint of shyness and the barest tinge of pink coloring his cheeks. "Let's just say, love, that on occasion I will see some trinket that makes me think of you. That is, of course, assuming I wasn't thinking of you already."

Emma's heart swelled at his words. She raised up on her toes, wrapping her arms around his neck, and nuzzled her nose against his. "I'd kiss you for that, but I think we both know if we start that business, we'll miss brunch entirely."

"Fair point, lass," Killian replied, pressing a kiss to her forehead instead. "How about that coffee, then?"

-x-

Despite their best efforts to behave themselves, Emma and Killian were the last to arrive at the diner. Granny herself greeted them at the door, hands on hips, with "'Bout time you two graced us with your presence."

Killian ducked his head in a semblance of a bow, and flashed the matron a blinding smile, laced with a hint of contrition. "Mrs. Lucas, please forgive our tardiness, and might I add you are looking quite ravishing today."

Granny huffed and took a swipe at him with the dish towel in her hand, but Emma could see the sparkle behind Granny's spectacles. "Oh, go on with you. Don't patronize an old woman," Granny chided and reached up to pinch Killian's cheek. "And none of this 'Mrs. Lucas' business. You can call me Mabel."

Emma turned to Ruby aghast, and mouthed  _Mabel?_  at her friend. Ruby looked equally perplexed, shrugging her shoulders, but before the silent conversation could continue, Granny snagged Emma's arm, fixing her with a stern glare. Emma braced herself for the kind of public talking-to that Granny had given her so many times over the years. "Emma Ruth, you hang on to that one. He's got the same wicked grin as my late husband, Ruby's grandpa. You don't treat him right, and I may just step around you. See how he likes a woman of  _experience_." Granny puffed out her ample bosom and smoothed her apron.

Whether this speech was intended to be delivered in a conspiratorial whisper or not, Emma wasn't sure. The fact was that Granny's "whisper" was loud enough that it was clear from the expressions on her friends' faces (Ruby's look of horror, the others' of barely suppressed mirth), that everyone in the diner had heard. Drowning in mortification, Emma glanced at Killian, who chuckled shamelessly.

Granny rounded on him at the sound. "And as for you, now don't go thinking that your pretty face and tight fittin' jeans are gonna turn my head if you hurt my Emma Ruth. Do you hear me?" She reached her thumb and forefinger towards Killian's ear menacingly. "Or do I need to bend your ear again?"

Killian's hands snapped to cover his ears defensively. "No, ma'am!" He gulped. "Message received," he said with a nervous smile.

Granny nodded, apparently satisfied. "Good. Aw, look at those dimples, Emma. Don't you just wanna pinch his cheeks?" Emma laughed as Granny escorted them to the booth where her friends waited. Hanging back a step, Granny took an appraising glance at Killian's backside. " _Those_  cheeks ain't so bad either." With that, Granny gave Killian's rear end a pinch, then nonchalantly shuffled back to the kitchen.

Emma snorted a laugh at Killian's surprised "Wahey!" When she caught his thoroughly flustered expression and pink-tipped ears, she broke into a full chortle. "Maybe you should be more careful about trying to charm old ladies," Emma taunted.

Killian raised his brows and exhaled through pursed lips. "Right you are, love," he replied, taking her hand in his and lacing their fingers together. "In the future, I'll reserve my considerable charms for you alone."

-x-

Brunch passed companionably, the food delicious and plentiful. When it came time to clear the dishes away, Granny called on Emma, Ruby and Elsa to "help out an ol' broad with a bad back." Eager for the chance at some girl talk in the kitchen, the three readily agreed, and set to work carrying away the platters and cutlery.

Once the kitchen door had swung shut behind them and they had emptied their armloads into the industrial grade dishwasher, Ruby piped up. "So! Who got laid last night? Show of hands." Finding herself to be the only one raising her hand, she grunted in disgust. "Seriously? You guys disappoint me."

Elsa pursed her lips and looked to the ceiling. "Would it make you feel any better if I told you we got to third base?"

Ruby smiled brightly at her. "Yes, yes it would. We will discuss that further in a minute." She turned to Emma. "What happened with you? You guys were all over each other at the bar…?"

Emma scrunched her mouth to the side with a shrug. "I fell asleep in the car on the way home. Killian carried me upstairs to bed." Ruby shook her head in disapproval, so Emma went on, "I did manage to give him a hickey in the car before I passed out."

Ruby's smile returned. "Now  _that's_  my girl!"

The kitchen door swung open and shut again. The three friends abruptly cut off their gossiping as Granny ambled over to them. "Well, it looks like you young ladies have caught yourselves a bunch of keepers. Now, I'm not sure that the proper fear of the Wrath of Granny has been instilled in your Victor -" she nodded to Ruby, "-or your Graham -" she nodded to Elsa, "but I intend to rectify that here in a minute." She pulled Ruby into a smothering hug. "Ruby Nell, I never thought I'd ever get to meet any young man of yours. You always kicked 'em to the curb before I could. I'm real proud of you, baby girl, for finally taking a chance on keeping one around." Ruby made a small noise that sounded very much like a sniffle, but she covered it with a cough. Granny patted her on the back and released her, turning her attention to Emma.

She wrapped an arm around Emma's waist and pulled her into a side-hug. "I'm happy for you, too, Emma honey. For a girl who not that long ago was scared to death she was nobody, you sure do seem to have a lot of folks around here that think you're somebody. Got more family than any orphan I've ever seen." Emma looked at her friends with a watery-eyed smile, and squeezed Granny back. "And for a girl who didn't think she mattered to anyone, that she wasn't worth it, well…" She pointed a single finger toward the dining room. "That man out there looks at you like you hung the stars in the sky." Granny patted Emma's back and pulled away to face her. "But now, if you're not in a mind to keep him, like I said before - I'd be happy to step in and pick up the pieces of his broken heart for you."

Emma laughed and put her hands on her hips in mock offense. "Granny, could you stop trying to steal my boyfriend?" She made a sweeping gesture from Granny's head to heels. "How am I supposed to compete with all that?"

With a glint in her eye, Granny swatted Emma on the arm. "Aw, now Emma Ruth, you should respect your elders. Let an old lady have some fun!" She waggled her eyebrows suggestively, eliciting giggles from the younger women. "Now," she continued, rubbing her palms together and punctuating the gesture with a clap. "Time to go make an impression on Victor and Graham."

Ruby, Emma, and Elsa all looked at each other quizzically for a second, unsure what "making an impression" would entail. The three were just about to resume their earlier gossip when suddenly they heard two loud cries of pain followed by a thud resonating from the main section of the diner. They rushed through the door, and immediately burst into laughter at the sight that greeted them.

There was Granny with Victor's ear in one hand and Graham's in her other, pressing both men face first into the countertop. "K!" Victor shouted. "Can you give us a hand here, man?"

Killian merely smiled and leaned back against a barstool, arms crossed. "Not a chance in hell, mate. Consider it a rite of passage." Granny looked up at him and nodded that that had been the right answer. Killian paused to take a large gulp from his coffee mug. "Besides, mate," he added, "I have no desire to find out if the rumors of crossbows are true."

-x-

Killian drove Emma back to her office to retrieve her car where she'd left it the night before. He parked and they both exited his car, but neither seemed in much of a hurry to part. Despite the early summer heat, they lingered, talking in the sun-baked parking lot, not wanting to be the first to say goodbye.

As they chatted, movement near the front door caught Emma's eye. She turned her head in time to see Neal Cassidy exiting the building with another man, whom Emma realized was none other than Robert Gold, founding partner of Gold, Mills & Mills. The two men were so engrossed in what seemed to be an intense argument that they were unaware of Emma and Killian's presence.

Killian's expression hardened. "Oh, look. It's that tosser again," he stated flatly. "Wonder what the hell he's up to now?"

Emma shushed him. "Down, boy. I'm trying to eavesdrop here." Unfortunately for her prying ears, Gold and Neal were too far away for her to catch more than a few snippets of the argument. Something about "need a big win" and "better come through this time" and "won't save your ass again."

After that, Gold turned on his heel and marched over to a shiny, black Mercedes, and drove away, while Neal ran his hands angrily through his hair and stormed back into the building. Emma furrowed her brows and hummed pensively.

"What?" Killian asked, with a tilt of his head.

"Nothing. I just guess he really was telling the truth about Gold keeping him on a short leash." Emma shook her head, then smiled at Killian. "But let's not let him ruin our morning."

The two talked for a few more minutes, but the day's heat and humidity was rapidly becoming oppressive. Killian sighed and pulled his car keys from his pocket, making ready to leave. "Swan, I don't wish to monopolize you for the rest of the day, but I was wondering…" He paused to scratch behind his ear. "Wondering if you perhaps had plans tonight?"

Emma smiled at him, squinting into the sunlight. "My evening is free at the moment. What did you have in mind?"

"You recall the t-shirt you borrowed from me after our first date? The black one with the pirate logo?"

"Yes…" Emma narrowed her eyes suspiciously.  _You sure as hell aren't getting that one back, buddy. It's my new favorite._

"It's from a garage band I played in at university. I was the guitar player."

"Of course, you play guitar," Emma muttered flatly, pressing her lips together and letting her eyes drift to Killian's hands.  _You know what they say about guitarists' fingers…_

Killian looked at her questioningly. "Is that a problem, Swan?"

Emma shook her head, and forced herself to focus back on his face.  _I am so screwed._  "Nope. Never mind. Continue."

He raised an eyebrow at that, but went on. "Anyway, we played a few gigs here and there, but it was more of a lark for me. However, our former lead singer is now part of some indie band that's really starting to make a name for themselves. Have you ever heard of The Rock Trolls?"

Emma's eyebrows shot up. "Yeah, I have. They're actually really good. I caught them at the Granada last year. Their lead singer is amazing, and…" Her voice trailed off as she was hit with the implication of his words. "Oh. My. God. You know KRISTOFF?"

Killian frowned. "Yes, well, he was just Kris Svenson when I knew him. Bit of an odd one really, very much the hippie-naturalist type. Always smelled like the inside of a barn."

Emma smirked at his apparent twinge of jealousy, and reached up to caress his face, pressing her thumbs to the corners of his mouth and pushing them into a smile. Killian rolled his eyes at her, but his expression softened. Emma rested her hands on his shoulders, and he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer. "At any rate," he continued, "Kris rang me up to let me know his band is going to be playing on  _Austin City Limits_  tonight, which is a good break for them. I thought you might want to come over for dinner and watch the concert on the telly."

Emma grinned up at him. "I'm in. What time should I come over?"

"The show starts at eight, so shall we say dinner at seven?" Killian asked.

She raised up on her toes and gave him a quick kiss on the lips. "I'll be there."

-x-

As hot and humid as the morning had been, the closer it got to seven o'clock, the darker and more ominous the sky became.  _God bless Texas weather,_ Emma thought,  _if you don't like it, just wait fifteen minutes and it'll change._

By the time Emma knocked on Killian's door, the bottom had fallen out of the sky. She could hear the dull roar of rain pouring down outside their building, and the occasional sharp boom of thunder. When Killian didn't answer the door immediately, Emma thought perhaps he hadn't heard her knock over the noise of the storm. She tried the handle, and finding the door unlocked, let herself in.

She found Killian seated on the couch with an acoustic guitar in his lap, picking out a complicated melody and humming to himself. He was so absorbed in his playing he didn't notice Emma's arrival. She stayed to the side, out of his line of sight, watching him, entranced by the deft movements of his fingers, the strength and dexterity of his hands, the way the muscles of his forearms flexed with each chord change. His face looked different lost in the music, peaceful, somehow younger. Even more handsome, if that were possible. Emma caught herself subconsciously wetting her lips, as her thoughts ran rampant to places she wasn't entirely sure she was ready to go.

_Never thought I'd be jealous of a musical instrument..._

The melody reached a cadence, and Killian seemed to become aware of her presence and turned his face to her, cocky eyebrow firmly in place. "See something you like, Swan?" He smoothed the flat of his palm over the curved side of the guitar.

_Oh, lord, yes._ Emma strived to cover her guilty musings with a dash of attitude. "I just hated to interrupt. You and the guitar seemed to be having a bit of a moment there," she taunted, motioning toward the door. "Should I leave the two of you alone?"

Killian's tongue darted to the side of his mouth, his eyes darkening wickedly. "Not at all, love. In fact, you're  _quite_ welcome to join us."

A pulse of heat shot through Emma's core as she held his gaze, fighting to maintain her mocking expression. Killian's slow, sly grin nearly undid her. "But perhaps, it would be better if we waited until after dinner. You look particularly hungry this evening, darling." He missed Emma's annoyed eye roll, as he pulled the guitar strap over his head and set the instrument to the side. He stood and extended his hand to Emma. "Care to join me in the kitchen, love? We're making tacos."

-x-

The storm continued to worsen outside as the two cooked in tandem. Killian stirred, seasoned and shredded, while Emma chopped, scooped and grated. The occasional claps of thunder grew in frequency and intensity, working a spectacular light show visible through the glass sliding doors to Killian's balcony. More than once Emma nearly dropped her knife after a particularly bright flash and immediate roll of thunder startled her and shook the windows of the apartment.

They had just finished plating the food to take to the table, when, with a loud  _pop!,_  the room went black. Emma heard Killian grumble, "Bloody buggering hell," followed by the clink of a plate being set on the counter. "Emma, love, could you dig through that drawer right beside you to locate a flashlight? There should be a small one in there. I'll go see if I can fetch a few more."

By the brilliance of the continued flashes of lighting, Emma watched Killian stalk away down the hall, swearing under his breath.

As she rummaged through the drawer, an idea occurred to her. She retrieved the small light, and switched it on. She set it on the couch pointing outwards toward the center of the room in a vain attempt to illuminate the space. She pushed the coffee table back to make more space on the floor. Then she grabbed a throw blanket which was folded over the arm of the couch and spread it flat across the carpet as a picnic blanket.

Just as she was walking carefully back to the living room carrying the plates of food, Killian re-emerged holding two more small flashlights and what appeared to be a camping lantern. "How do you feel about a little picnic by candlelight? Or… you know… a reasonable candlelight substitute?"

Killian beamed at her, his smile made even brighter by the refracted glow of the lantern. "You're bloody brilliant, Swan."

Emma shrugged coyly, pursing her lips. "I have my moments."

He set the lantern down on the coffee table, and propped up the three flashlights next to it, so that they shined up towards the ceiling. Emma set the plates on the blanket and ventured back to the kitchen for napkins and drinks.

They talked and laughed throughout the meal. Killian constantly found reasons to touch her. Soft simple touches - tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, grazing a knuckle down her arm, smudging away a purported droplet of salsa from the corner of her mouth. And when his hands weren't on her…

Had he always fidgeted with his fingers so much? Drumming them pensively against his chest, twisting the silver rings, running the tip of his long middle finger in steady circles around the rim of his glass. Emma tried her utmost to focus on their casual conversation, but her eyes, of their own will, kept drifting either to his hands or his lips. Each and every time, Killian caught her and his expression grew more smug by the minute.

_That bastard is toying with me. He knows exactly what he's doing._

When they'd finished eating, Emma hopped up and offered to take the dishes back to the kitchen. As she walked away, she called back over her shoulder, "I guess watching the concert on television isn't going to happen. It doesn't seem like the power is coming back on anytime soon. How about you play a song or two for us instead? Entertain me!"

To Emma's surprise, when she had placed the dishes in the sink and looked over the bar at Killian, all his cocky bravado had faded. He looked adorably unsure. "Hey, you don't have to or anything. You were just playing so beautifully when I walked in earlier."

Emma saw him struggle for words as she walked back to the living room and sat down on the blanket across from him, tucking her feet beneath herself. He had picked the guitar back up, and it rested in his lap. Emma had the fleeting thought he was hiding behind it.

"It's not that, love," he answered. "It's…Well, I've been practicing a song lately. I suppose you could say it's been stuck in my head for a while now." He flicked his eyes up to hers briefly before resuming making a show of tuning the instrument.

Emma reached out and squeezed his knee. "So, play it for me. It just me, Killian."

Killian smiled softly and finally met her gaze. "There is no such thing as  _just you_ , Emma. You are far more than 'just' anything."

Emma's heart stuttered and she huffed out a small laugh, casting her eyes to the blanket beneath her. "What if I close my eyes, then? I won't peek, and you can pretend you're just practicing some more."

Killian nodded. "Alright then, lass."

Emma dramatically placed a hand over her eyes. She grinned as she heard the first strains of a lovely, slow ballad. Her smirk grew and she swayed in time with the music as Killian's lilting voice sang to her about eyes like the night sky or a sunrise, obviously a love song, though one she was not familiar with.

Then the chorus came around, and the next two lines made her still:

 

_Well, I won't give up on us_

_Even if the skies get rough_

 

She lowered her hand and opened her eyes to find Killian watching her intently as the song continued:

 

_I'm giving you all my love_

_I'm still looking up_

_And when you're needing your space_

_To do some navigating_

_I'll be here patiently waiting_

_To see what you find_

 

Tears began to prickle in Emma's eyes, but she couldn't rip her gaze away from him.

 

_God knows we're worth it_

_No, I won't give up_

_I don't want to be someone who walks away so easily_

_I'm here to stay and make the difference that I can make_

 

She let his voice, his words swirl around her, wash over her. She knew in her heart this wasn't just a song. He wasn't just singing  _to_  her. He was singing  _about_ her, about  _them._ The truth of it all was there in his voice and in his eyes. Emma listened, transfixed.

 

_I won't give up on us_

_God knows I'm tough enough_

_We've got a lot to learn_

_God knows we're worth it_

 

He knew she was afraid. He knew she would still need space to figure things out sometimes. To find her way. But this was his confession, his offering to her that he would wait. That she was worth the wait. That he was in this for the long haul. That they were worth it. That  _she_ was worth it.

As Killian strummed the final chords, he lowered his eyes to the strings. Emma leaned forward toward him from her kneeling position. Keeping one hand on the floor for balance, she reached the other up to cup his jaw line, raising his face to look at her. She'd never seen him so vulnerable, so open. He began to speak, softly and hesitantly: "Emma, that-"

Whatever he intended to say was lost as Emma captured his lips tenderly, a wayward tear trailing down her cheek. Killian pulled back, breaking the kiss and brushed the tear away with the pad of his thumb. His eyes were filled with hope as they searched hers. He must've found what he'd been seeking, as the grin now spreading across Killian's face was broad and joyful and rapidly shifting into his trademark devilish smirk.

With a twang, the guitar was hastily shoved aside. The next thing Emma knew, Killian surged forward, pressing her flat on her back against their makeshift picnic blanket. His hips settled perfectly in line with hers as he kissed her fiercely, arms braced on either side of her head. All the tension and lust that had been building inside her since she'd first watched his fingers stroke and pull at the guitar strings coursed through her, drowning her senses.

Emma's legs moved of their own accord, her thighs hitching around his hips. Desire thrummed in her veins as his hard length pressed against her center. She gripped the small of his back, pulling his hips down roughly and writhing underneath him to increase the delicious friction. She felt the rumble of Killian's appreciative growl in every part of her, as he broke the kiss and nuzzled into her neck. A flick of his tongue behind her ear set her moaning as well, their bodies moving with and against each other in a steady, intensifying rhythm.

She turned her head to the side, offering him better access to the skin of her neck, and her eyes landed on his hand - his lovely, agile hand - she'd spent most of the evening obsessing over. She grasped it in her own, and Killian shifted his weight to his other arm, pulling back to watch her. Locking her eyes on his, she drew his hand to her mouth, ghosting her lips across his fingers, then following with a delicate swirl of the tip of her tongue around each knuckle. Emboldened by the salacious look in his eyes, Emma cocked an eyebrow at him and purred, "Did I ever mention I have a bit of a  _thing_  about guitar players' hands?"

Killian raised his brows in response, his voice thick with desire. "I think I'd have remembered that, love." He rolled off of her onto his side, propping himself up on an elbow next to her. "Emma, darling," Killian breathed, as his free hand leisurely stroked down her throat, her sternum, between her breasts, to splay across her stomach. "Are you asking me to  _play_ you?" His little finger toyed with the waistband of her jeans.

Emma bit her lower lip, and her eyes glanced down at his hand so tantalizingly close to where she needed him. "Maybe," she replied with a coquettish half-smile.

Killian rolled her onto her left side pulling her back into him so her back was pressed firmly against his front. He brushed her hair away and nuzzled into the back of her neck. His warm breath tickled her ear. "As the lady wishes," he murmured against her skin, his scruff brushing against the sensitive flesh, raising goosebumps in its wake.

Killian dragged his fingertips across Emma's collarbone, then delved into the deep v of her shirt. Gliding his hand under the thin material of her bra, he cupped her breast, testing its weight in his palm, then squeezing, caressing. His fingers danced over the pebbled flesh of her nipple lightly at first, but his strokes grew rougher, pinching and teasing as he strummed her.

He pulled his hand away, and Emma arched back into him, craving more contact. His steeled length pressed solidly against her ass, letting her know he was enjoying this as much as she was. Killian smoothed his palm down her ribs, through the dip of her waist and over swell of her hip just as he had caressed the curved side of the guitar earlier. He found the hem of her shirt, sliding his hand beneath the fabric and stroking back up her stomach to her ribs. The pad of his thumb grazed the underside of her other breast before his fingers worked their way under the cup of her bra and he was driving her mad.

Emma tried to reach her hand behind her to touch him, to make him feel what she was feeling, but Killian stilled her hand. "Emma, I've dreamt of you like this, warm and willing under my touch, listening to the music of your gasps and moans. Let me have this tonight. Let me take care of you, love."

She looked up at him over her shoulder and smiled at the look in his eyes, all heat and want and something else she wasn't ready to name. She nodded once, and reached up to card her nails through his hair, tugging him back down to her. Killian lowered his head and as Emma turned away again, he began trailing a scorching line of kisses across the curve of her shoulder to the pulse of her neck.

His hand set back to its task again, fingers stroking and dragging across her stomach, ever so slowly moving lower. When Emma was on the point of begging, her breath panting fast and heavy, Killian expertly undid the button and fly of her jeans and finally,  _finally_  descended to where she was aching with need for him.

It was everything that Emma had fantasized and more. His fingers moved as surely and deftly against her center as they had against the strings. He played her like a virtuoso, building her to the very cusp of a frenzied peak, only to pull away momentarily then push her through to new heights with the next crescendo. When she finally came crashing over the edge, her hand locked around his wrist (because  _oh my God, THERE!_ ), and he pressed the flat of his hand against her core, letting her hips twitch against him as she rode out the aftershocks of pleasure.

Emma had never felt more sated or more cherished. Killian's touch sent fire through her veins like nothing she'd ever felt before. He could do more to set her senses ablaze with one hand than other men had done with their entire bodies.

Though, there was more to it than that. More for him, and if she was honest with herself, more for her than she could admit. There would be time to think about such things later, right? At this moment, all she wanted to do was lay boneless in his arms, listening to the steady patter of the rain outside and his contented sigh against her ear.

Emma rolled over in Killian's arms to face him. He pressed his forehead to hers, their noses bumping lightly against each other. Emma looked up into his eyes, and even in the dim light of the lantern, she could see the depth of feeling within them. The words were there. Right there, as though they'd been tattooed on his irises. She wanted to hear him say them, more than she'd ever wanted anything.

Yet, at the same time, she was terrified because there would be no going back if he did. She wanted to run away, or to kiss him until he was too distracted to say anything, but she held her ground.

Her breath caught in her throat as he began to speak, his voice a ragged whisper. "Emma, I have to tell you something." He paused, searching her face, a shy, but hopeful smile gracing his lips. "Darling, I-"

As though the heavens themselves had opened up, every light, appliance and electrical device in the apartment suddenly burst back into life. They both startled violently and sat up. Emma yelped and scrunched her eyes against the blinding light. A split second later, a deafening alarm ripped through the building. Killian swore loudly as Emma pressed her hands over her ears.

"What fresh hell is this, Swan?"

"Fire alarm," she hollered over the noise, still blinking as her eyes adjusted to the light. Killian stood and offered her a hand to pull her to her feet. "Sometimes when the power is knocked out, the reboot will trip the fire alarm. One of the fun quirks of this building. It'll stop in a second."

Just as she said, not five seconds later, the alarm died away as quickly as it came, leaving Emma and Killian blinking awkwardly at each other. Whatever moment they had been about to share was now irretrievably gone.

Killian scratched behind his ear, and took a step towards her. "So…" he picked up his cell phone from the end table and checked the screen. "According to this, we could still catch the last few songs of that concert, if you'd like."

Emma nodded and grinned at his sheepish demeanor. "Sounds like a plan. Grab an end of that coffee table, so we can scoot it back where it belongs and make ourselves comfy on the couch."

-x-

That night they lay next to each other in Killian's bed, Emma clad in another one of his t-shirts ("I'm not going to have any left at the rate you're going, Swan."). She drowsily listened, tracing idle shapes on his chest, as he talked about the issues he was having to deal with at work. Apparently there were problems with some of the drilling machinery on the rig, and his higher-ups wanted him to consult on it.

Emma frowned. "Will you have to go back offshore to do that?"

"I certainly don't want to, Swan." He brushed a stray lock of hair away from her face, and grinned sleepily. "Now more than ever. But it's a pretty serious safety concern, and it very well may come to that."

"Well, I can hardly argue with you about having to be away at work, with the hours I've been keeping lately. Ugh, and there's this stupid night out I have to do this coming Friday, so now the job's eating into my weekends, too."

"What does this 'stupid night out' entail?"

"The firm takes on law student interns every summer. GMM always tries to lock down the best and brightest up-and-coming talent by really laying it on thick. We take them to luxurious restaurants for dinner, fancy networking parties, box seats at sporting events, hot new night clubs. The message is look-how-amazing-your-life-will-be-if-you-work-for-us. Anyway, our new intern starts Monday. So, on Friday night a bunch of the senior associates are supposed to take her out to dinner and some trendy new club called The Crow's Nest."

Killian furrowed his brow. "Will Mr. Complicated be there?"

Emma sighed, not liking where this was going. "Yes, Neal will be there. So will at least two other attorneys, plus the intern."

"I don't like it, Swan."

"Well, I'm not overly thrilled about the whole thing either, but I have to go. It won't even be fun - The Crow's Nest is super-pretentious and full of spoiled socialites, from what I hear - but, I have to do my part for the firm. Still trying to make an impression on the bosses, remember? Nothing bad is gonna happen, Killian." She gave his arm a reassuring squeeze.

Killian grunted his disapproval. "But that wanker will be there."

Emma's hackles started to rise. She crossed her arms over her chest and jutted her chin out defiantly. "I can handle myself."

Killian huffed and shook his head. "I don't doubt that, Swan. I genuinely pity the poor soul who ever dares to cross you, but…" he paused to brush a wisp of hair from her face. "Emma, you said I was responsible for protecting your heart. Why won't you let me do it? I just don't trust that man. Isn't there some way you could beg off?"

Emma rolled her eyes, but the fight had gone out of her. "I'm going. End of story." She pressed a kiss to his forehead. "If it makes you feel better, I'll be the designated driver to make sure I have all my wits about me. Killian, this has been the best night, stupid fire alarms notwithstanding. Let's not ruin it fighting over something like this."

Killian relented with a sigh, his tongue sliding along the edge of his top teeth. "Promise me one thing, Swan? Will you let me know when you get home safely then, so I don't have to pace the apartment all night?"

Emma smiled and kissed his cheek. "I promise." She reached above her head and tapped three times on the headboard, a gesture that had now become her ritual, her lucky charm. "Good night, Jones."

Killian yawned and tapped back, then nestled his head into his pillow. "Good night, Swan."

-x-

Tuesday afternoon, Emma received an email that made her cringe.

" _All GMM employees are notified that we will be conducting server maintenance this weekend. You will be required to log out of all firm computer systems effective at 5:00 p.m. on Friday, and will have no access to the firm servers and any documents in server files until Monday morning. Please plan your workload accordingly. As a reminder, due to client confidentiality issues, it is against firm policy to download any work product or client document from the servers onto CD-ROMs, flash drives, etc. MAKE SURE ANY WORK DUE ON MONDAY IS COMPLETED PRIOR TO 5 PM ON FRIDAY._ "

Emma typed out a quick email to Belle:

" _Hey, I just saw that we're getting locked out of the servers this weekend. Will you come by today to start working with me on proofing and formatting? If we don't start now, I'll never finish before Friday afternoon."_

Emma hit SEND, and grumbled to herself.  _Shit. Guess I need to let Killian know I can't come over for dinner tonight._

Emma opened up Skype on her laptop and clicked on Killian's screen name.

**E: Hey, you there?**

After a few seconds, she got a response.

**K: I'm here, love. Everything alright?**

E:Not really. My deadline just got moved up on that big project I've been working on. I won't be able to finish it over the weekend like I thought. Gonna have to work late the next few nights.

**K: So I suppose dinner tonight is off?**

E: Afraid so. :-( This sucks… I was looking forward to adding to my Killian t-shirt collection tonight...

**K: You do what you need to do love. You can always come by when you get home, no matter how late.**

E: Hmmm ;-) Tempting, but I hate to drag you out of bed.

**K: I could give you your own key… if you want.**

Emma's pulse began to race.  _A key to his place? Isn't that kind of… soon? Then again, we spend nearly every day together at his place or mine, and we're next door neighbors for God's sake, so it does kind of make sense…_

As these and other similar thought swirled through her brain, Emma realized she hadn't replied for a few minutes. She looked back at her screen.

**K: You still there?**

E: Still here.

E: You don't need to go to the trouble of making me a key.

**K: I want to… but if it makes you uncomfortable**

Before Emma responded, she was saved by the appearance of Belle in her doorway. "Come on in! Let me just type this one last thing, and we'll get to work." Belle sat down in a chair across from Emma's desk as Emma typed out her final response.

**E: Hey! Belle just walked in and we really need to get to work on that project. You and I can talk more tonight.**

Emma hit SEND on the message and logged out before Killian had the chance to reply.

-x-

It was close to 11:00 that night when Emma knocked on Killian's door, feeling absolutely exhausted. He answered it, and Emma felt much of the anxiety she'd been harboring all evening fade away at the sight of him. He was barefoot and bare chested, the waistband of his sweatpants dipping tantalizingly low beneath his hip bones.

After taking a few seconds longer than perhaps was necessary to let her eyes rove hungrily over the expanse of chest hair covering his pecs and trailing down his abs (a path she very much wanted to retrace with her fingers later), Emma quirked an eyebrow at him and said, "Do you always answer your door half-naked this late at night?"

Killian's smirk was already in full force due to her open perusal of him. "You see, it's the damndest thing, love. Seems all of my clean t-shirts have been stolen."

Emma crossed her arms and hummed. "Is that so?"

"Yes," Killian replied reaching for her hand. "Now come inside, Swan, before we scandalize the neighborhood."

Emma accepted his hand, and followed him into the apartment. He walked her to the kitchen counter and paused, ducking his head sheepishly. "I, ah… took the liberty of having a spare key made for you. If you aren't ready for that - if it's too much, too soon, then I shall simply hang on to it until you want it. You certainly don't have to give me one to your apartment, either. Particularly after that incident with Victor and Ruby - God knows what I could walk in on…"

He was rambling adorably, seemingly afraid to meet Emma's eyes. She squeezed his hand to reassure him, and caught his gaze. "I'm not going to lie to you and try to tell you that this doesn't make me nervous. It does. I've never done this before. Never had my own key, or my own drawer. It scares the hell out of me to let someone make a place for me in their life and in their home. There's still this little lost girl inside me who wants nothing more to be loved and to have a home with someone. But that same lost girl, Killian…" Emma shook her head. "She's terrified. Because every time I've ever thought I had a chance at those things, it got ripped away, and I was cast aside as if I didn't matter. As if I were _nothing_. And at some point, I think I gave up hope that I'd ever be anything but a lost girl.

"But now… now there's you. You, who wants to protect my heart. You, who looks at me like I'm something  _priceless._ " He smiled warmly at her, giving her the courage to continue. "Killian, in my childhood and my past, people were always letting me down -"

"Hey. I don't intend to let you down." he interjected, sincerity infusing his tone.

"I know." Emma replied simply. "I'm gonna choose to see the best in you. I don't want to let my fear come between us anymore. So…" she released his hand and delicately picked up the key from the counter. Her key ring was still in her other hand, and she began to twist the new key onto the ring. "I'm gonna take one more step, and trust you. Even if it's scary."

Killian beamed at her, gathering her into his arms and pressing a searing kiss to her lips. "Come to bed, Swan," he murmured against her mouth.

Emma giggled and pulled away, taking his hand and leading him towards the bedroom. "But what will I sleep in? You said you're out of t-shirts."

"You can sleep in my arms, love," he replied.

-x-

Late Thursday night, Emma glanced at the tiny clock in the lower right hand corner of her computer screen. It was nearly midnight and she was ready to rip her hair out, but the brief was almost done. She typed a few more sentences, then slumped back in her chair with a yawn.

"Okay. I think this is the last revision. Would you check through this thing one last time to make sure I don't have any typos, and, you know… that it's coherent? I've been staring at it for too long. The words have lost all meaning."

"Sure," Belle answered. "Hop up and I'll give it a look." She gestured for Emma to vacate the desk chair, and Emma complied.

"I'm going down the hall to get something to drink. You want me to bring you anything back?" Emma asked walking towards her office door.

"Ah, just a bottle of water if you can find one. Any more caffeine tonight and I'll never get to sleep."

"Thank you so much for staying up here tonight to help me finish the brief, Belle. I guess I could've waited until tomorrow, but I'm just so ready to have it over and done with, and I didn't want to risk running out of time with them shutting us out of the servers at 5:00."

Belle smiled. "You're very welcome. Now, let me do the final check so we can both go home."

A few minutes later, Emma returned to her office with two bottles of water and a couple of candy bars in hand. "So, how's it look?" Emma asked anxiously.

"I fixed a couple of typos, but other than that I think it's perfect! The partners are going to be really impressed."

Emma sighed in relief as she set the bottles on her desk. Belle reached for one and Emma held up the candy. "Celebratory Snickers?"

"I'll take one for the road." Belle said, tucking the candy into her purse and standing. She lifted her water bottle to Emma in a toast. "Cheers!"

Emma tapped her water bottle against Belle's. "Cheers! And thanks again for your help!"

Belle took her leave as Emma sat back down at her laptop. She dashed off a quick email to Neal with the link to the now completed Midas brief in the firm's server, and hit SEND. She realized too late that her burned-out brain had forgotten to copy Belle on the email, so she sent a second email with the document link to her.

Emma's shoulders sagged as the relief of having completed the project washed over her. She dug her keys out of her purse and smiled to herself at the shiny new one on the ring.

_Time to get the hell out of here,_  she thought.  _I've got a handsome pirate to snuggle up to._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FYI - I'm guessing most of you know this, but the song quoted is "I Won't Give Up" by Jason Mraz. I, of course, own no rights to it whatsoever.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Okay folks, I warned you last time, and I'm warning you again. Fluffy time is over for a while. Bumpy seas and lots of angst ahead.   
> Again, HUGE thanks to my wonderful beta captainswannl29, and amazing editor accio-ambition.

" _This is a reminder to all GMM employees to log out of all firm computer systems in 45 minutes. Server maintenance will commence at 5:00 p.m. and you will have no access to the firm servers or any documents in server files until Monday morning. PLEASE FINISH ANY PENDING WORK IMMEDIATELY AND SAVE BEFORE CLOSING. As a reminder, due to client confidentiality issues, it is against firm policy to download any work product or client document from the servers onto CD-ROMs, flash drives, etc. 5:00 P.M. LOG OUT IS MANDATORY."_

Emma downed the last of her coffee as she read the administrator's email, and closed the pleading she'd been reviewing.  _No sense in staring at this thing any longer,_ Emma thought with a yawn,  _I've read that last paragraph about four times now and I still have no idea what it says._ She was thoroughly grateful Belle had been willing to stay late with her last night to finish the Midas brief, even if it meant she was mentally wiped out today.  _I seriously owe her._

As if summoned by the thought, Belle appeared in the doorway and tentatively stepped into Emma's office. Emma looked up from her laptop screen and smiled at the other woman. In her hazy mental state, it took her a few seconds to notice Belle's harried expression, hesitant steps, and restless fingers. Clearly she was agitated, but Emma couldn't think why.

"Hey, are you okay?" Emma asked.

Belle opened her mouth to speak, but before any words came out, a different voice rang through Emma's office.

"Ems! I've got someone here for you to meet!" Neal's deep voice boomed from the hallway. Belle's eyes opened wide at the sound. She clamped her jaw shut and began backing slowly into a corner, out of sight of Emma's door.

Neal sauntered into Emma's office with a lovely young woman in tow, all chocolate skin and smooth dark hair in a killer suit. Emma stood and walked around her desk, extended her hand to the other woman with a smile. "I'm assuming this is our new summer intern?" Emma asked.

"You got it," Neal replied as the two women shook hands. "Emma Swan, this is Tamara Mendell. Top of her class at SMU Law. Tamara, Emma is our best legal writer and a hell of a researcher. You could learn more from her in a week than you could in an entire semester at law school."

Emma rolled her eyes, but maintained her smile. "I think Neal may be overstating that a bit, but it's a pleasure to meet you."

"Likewise," Tamara replied, returning Emma's smile.

A small movement caught Emma's eye. She looked past Neal and Tamara to see Belle edging her way back to the door, obviously trying to remain unnoticed. Belle fixed Emma with a serious expression and then very pointedly nodded at the back of Neal's head. Emma furrowed her brows and tilted her head in puzzlement. Her expression caught the attention of the other two, who both turned around to see what had caused Emma's change in demeanor.

"Oh, hey, didn't notice you there," Neal said. "If Emma's done with you, how about you go on back and call that jackass over at DeVil & Associates who keeps trying to send me 100-page faxes and tell him to just email the damn thing." Neal returned his attention to Emma with a shrug. "Who the hell uses a fax machine anymore?"

"Of course, Mr. Cassidy," Belle answered, and gave Emma one last warning glance before turning on her heel to leave.

"So, Ems, I was just about to give Tamara here the grand official tour. Introduce her to the right people," Neal continued with a wink. "You wanna make the rounds with us before we all need to leave for dinner?"

"Sure," Emma replied. "We're about to get locked out of the system anyway, so it's not like I have work I should be doing. What's the plan for tonight, anyway?"

"You, me, Booth and Ariel are going to be escorting Ms. Mendell here to dinner at Ocean Prime, followed by cocktails and dancing at The Crow's Nest."

"Wow," Tamara interjected, obviously impressed. "You guys sure know how to turn a girl's head. That's a pretty far cry from the campus dive bars and all-night diners a lowly law student is used to."

Neal beamed at her. "Only the best from Gold, Mills, & Mills. And remember, honey, this is all on the company dime, so make the most of it." He turned back to Emma. "Hey, why don't the three of us carpool, so Tamara doesn't have to worry about driving and can really enjoy herself?"

Emma nodded. "I'm in." She paused for a moment, remembering her promise to Killian. "But I'll drive."

-x-

Dinner, as expected, was a luxurious affair involving oysters on the half-shell, lobster tails, and every bottle of wine the sommelier recommended. While Neal and Tamara made sure the wine didn't go to waste, Emma passed the time enjoying the opportunity to get to know Booth and Ariel better. Booth, she learned, did in fact have a first name (August), a wife named Lily, and spent a lot of time in the Far East negotiating contracts with the firm's corporate clients. Ariel Triton, who Emma discovered had picked the restaurant, specialized in maritime law, which had lead her to meet her fiancé Eric, the heir apparent to a large shipping conglomerate.

After the exorbitant check was paid, the group moved on to The Crow's Nest, Dallas's hottest and most painfully trendy nightclub. Much as she hated to admit it, Emma couldn't help but be impressed by the sleek decor, all polished black marble, brushed steel, and rich leather. Though it was still on the early side for clubbing, the place was already filling with its usual fashionable and affluent clientele. Bleach blonde socialites reclined with their cosmos in the row of banquettes along the far wall. Clusters of trust-fund college students congregated at tables up on the balcony that wrapped around the top level of the club, looking down onto the central dance floor.

Neal led the group, striding confidently up to the bar. He rapped his knuckles on the countertop to get the attention of the nearest bartender. "A round of Patron for all my friends here, my man!" He handed over the firm's credit card. "And keep the tab open."

Emma caught Ariel's eye briefly as the shots were passed around, but the redhead simply shrugged as if to say  _just go with it_  before raising her glass to announce, "To GMM!"

"To GMM!" the rest of the group replied in unison, and downed the drinks.

As they all placed their glasses back onto the bar, Emma heard Tamara giggle, and glanced over to see the intern leaning heavily on a barstool.  _Geez, I hope she doesn't hurl in my car on the way home._

The press of a warm hand on Emma's upper arm snapped her back to the present. Neal walked around to face her, standing closer than was really necessary.

"What do you say, gorgeous? Wanna set a good example for this bunch, and join me out on that dance floor? It's about time this party picked up the pace."

Emma took a small step back, escaping his grasp. "I think I'm gonna have to pass on that." She gestured to her four-inch stilettos. "These shoes weren't made for dancing."

Neal's eyes lowered to Emma's footwear, then took their time traveling slowly up her legs and over her figure before finally reaching her face again. "Now that's just a damn shame," he said with a wink, earning an eye roll from Emma.

Tamara walked over, teetering slightly on her heels, and grabbed Neal's hand. "Well then, why don't you take the new girl for a spin?" she asked, and began pulling Neal to the dance floor. Neal looked back at Emma just long enough to toss a shrug her direction before trotting after Tamara like a puppy with a new master.

_I have a feeling this is not gonna end well._

"Well, since they seem to be occupied," Booth's voice broke through Emma's thoughts. "Would you ladies like to find some place to sit?"

Emma and Ariel both nodded their agreement, and the three moved together to a table near the back. They lost sight of Tamara and Neal in the throng of gyrating bodies on the dance floor, but, Emma noticed, neither of her companions seemed all that upset at the loss. They chatted as best they could in the noisy club. Emma asked Ariel about her wedding plans (beach wedding in the Caribbean), and Booth about which Asian restaurants in town were the most authentic ("Definitely check out Korea-town, up in the north suburbs just off the turnpike.")

What seemed like ages later, Ariel tapped Emma on the shoulder and pointed out toward the dance floor. "Check that out."

Booth and Emma both turned to see what Ariel had seen. There were Neal and Tamara, grinding away on the dance floor, their limbs tangled and bodies pressed together in a way that Emma thought would've made even Ruby blush.

Booth looked confused. "Isn't that guy engaged to Regina Mills' step-daughter?"

Emma raised her eyebrows and blinked at the sight. "Yeah. I mean, as far as I know he is. Do you think we should, you know, do something about it?"

Booth stood from the table. "Hell, it's none of my business. I just know that if my wife saw me dancing like that with another woman, I'd quickly find myself in your office, Emma, for a divorce consultation." Emma grimaced as Booth went on. "I say we just leave them to it. Neal's a big boy. He can deal with his own drama. I've got a flight to Phuket tomorrow morning, so I'm gonna get out of here."

"Actually I think I'm going to go, too," Arial chimed in. "I'm exhausted and Eric and I have a cake tasting appointment tomorrow. How about you, Emma?"

"I'm pretty beat, but I drove those two here, so I feel kind of responsible for them. Y'all go on. I'll just go back over to the bar and get myself a Diet Coke or something. I need some caffeine."

The three said their goodbyes, and Emma began the trek to the bar through the sea of revelers.

-x-

Neal sidled up next to her at the bar. He downed the last of the cocktail in his hand and set the empty glass on the counter, giving Emma's shoulder a nudge with his own. "Whatcha doing over here all by yourself, Ems? Come enjoy the party." Neal's speech was clearly slurred and he was close enough that Emma could smell the alcohol on his breath. "How 'bout I buy us a couple of shots? That'll cheer you up."

Emma took a small step away and turned to face him. "Yeah, I'm not sure that's such a good idea. I'm the designated driver, remember? I just came over here to get a Diet Coke."

_Besides, it looks like you've had quite enough already,_ Emma thought.

Neal shook his head as if to clear it. "That's right." He took a step closer to her. His expression slowly turned into something of a leer as he reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind Emma's ear, grazing his knuckles against her jaw line as he lowered the hand again. "Maybe there's something else I can do to make you smile."

Emma furrowed her brow in confusion.  _Holy shit! Is he about to -_

His eyes locked on her lips, and he leaned in toward her, tilting his head slightly to the side.

"Whoa!" Emma stopped him with a hand to his chest, stepping back and leaning away from him as far as the crowded space allowed. "The  _hell_  do you think you're doing?" Emma demanded, her voice jumping an octave higher in shock.

"C'mon, Ems, you know you've thought about it." Emma still had a hand pressed to his chest to keep him at bay, but Neal seemed to misread the warning, and covered her hand with his, stroking the backs of her fingers with his thumb. "I know you had a little crush on me." Emma jerked her hand away, and Neal chuckled. "We're not at the office, Ems. You don't have to play coy."

Emma crossed her arms. "I'm not playing anything, Neal," she stated firmly. "I'm  _with_  someone. Someone who doesn't see me as a just a piece of tail on the side, which apparently you do. Or have you forgotten that you're engaged?"

Emma's words finally seemed to break through to Neal. Scowling, he turned away from her to face the bar, leaning heavily onto it with his elbows. He blew out a breath, picked up a stray paper cocktail napkin, and began fidgeting with the edges. "She left me. Met some asshole – 'David' somebody – at one of her animal charity things. He runs a shelter." Neal's tone dripped with anger and sarcasm. He shook his head. "She's moving out this weekend."

Emma exhaled forcefully. "Well, I'm sorry to hear that, but I'm not interested in being a rebound bang." Neal glanced back at her over his shoulder but didn't respond. Emma saw the muscles in his jaw clench as he looked back down at his hands and began tearing the napkin he'd been toying with into tiny shards.

The bartender finally brought Emma her soft drink, and she reached between some other bar patrons to retrieve it. "I think I'm gonna go get some air," Emma said as much to herself as to whoever might be listening. She walked carefully up the stairs to the balcony, weaving her way through the press of humanity, and trying not to spill her drink. She leaned against the balcony railing and looked out across the sea of clients – all the young, beautiful, and upwardly mobile of the city.

_Killian was right. I wish I hadn't come tonight,_ Emma thought.  _I never thought Neal would take it that far. Geez, what a douche. How did I ever...? Ugh! I'm an idiot. Thank God I'm presenting the Midas brief to the partners first thing Monday, and then I won't have to deal with his sorry ass anymore._

Emma scanned the throng below her again, her thoughts continuing to swirl.  _I don't even like these kind of places. Too trendy, too crowded. I could be at home right now with Killian on the couch watching Netflix. Or, you know, letting Netflix play in background while we do other stuff._

That thought brought a smile to her face, which she struggled to hide from the strangers around her.  _Instead I'm up here, watching a bunch of rich, entitled 20-somethings drink overpriced liquor and make out on the banquettes._  Emma paused her perusal as she recognized a familiar form and clothing.  _Oh, you've got to be kidding me. Stupid son-of-a-bitch!_

Cursing under her breath, Emma pushed away from the railing, abandoned her glass on the nearest table, and hurried back down the stairs. She stalked with as much grace as she could muster over to the banquette. She'd been right. Neal had Tamara pressed almost fully reclining into the corner of the seat, kissing her sloppily, his hand sliding up her thigh beneath the hem of her skirt.

Emma stopped, hands on hips, in front of the couple and coughed loudly. When that didn't get their attention, she kicked Neal's leg with the pointy toe of her stiletto, and said in an exaggeratedly professional voice, "Don't let me interrupt. Oh, wait. DO let me interrupt." She grabbed Neal (who had now disentangled himself from Tamara) roughly by the arm and pulled him to standing. "I'm just gonna borrow him for a sec, 'kay?" she chirped sweetly at Tamara, who was still lolling back against the seat and seemed to be finding the situation funny.

Emma marched Neal out of the intern's earshot and laid into him.

"Are you out of your mind? She's completely hammered, Neal! Not to mention barely past legal drinking age. Even if you have no personal moral qualms about taking advantage of a girl too drunk to argue, you could at least  _try_ not to get the fucking firm sued for sexual harassment!"

Neal laughed in her face. "What's the matter, Ems? You jealous? Tamara over there-" Neal pointed to the intern in question, who giggled and gave Emma a little finger wave, "-says she's pretty open could come joins us if you're jealous," he slurred.

Emma sneered, shook her head, and rolled her eyes. "You're disgusting."

Neal's eyes hardened and his demeanor suddenly seemed to sober. "And you're becoming a bore. Doesn't matter though. After my meeting with Gold today, I've really no further use for you."

Emma narrowed her eyes. "What the hell are you talking about?" she hissed, her voice steely and cold.

"Gold loved your brief on the Midas case. He thinks the appeal will be a slam dunk. Of course, he has no idea you had anything to do with writing it. Thanks for finishing it up early, by the way."

Emma felt the blood begin to drain from her face. "You said the presentation to the partners was Monday morning."

"Oh, it is. But since you finished it last night, I brought it along to my progress meeting with Gold this afternoon and gave it to him. All I had to do was open the file, take your name off the author page, block copy the whole thing into a new document and delete your original. Boom. No tracking data, since I'm the only one who's touched the new file. I've glanced through enough of it that I'm sure I can put on a good show for Cora and Regina on Monday."

"What makes you think I won't march into that meeting and tell the partners what a lying scumbag you are?"

"You go right ahead, sweetheart." Neal's smile was sinister. "Make a fool of yourself. Who do you think they're gonna believe? Some nobody that they've barely heard of?" He paused, and leaned closer, lowering his voice to a harsh whisper. "Or Gold's son?"

Emma froze, her throat suddenly dry. She gulped out, "His son?"

Neal laughed mirthlessly. "Sounds like someone hasn't done her homework. Yeah, his  _son._  I'm the result of a little indiscretion he had with a secretary, so he doesn't really publicize it. Regina and Cora know, and those witches have been trying to get rid of me since I blew that case six months ago. But, I secure the win on the Midas appeal, and I think all the cash rolling into the firm will help them see the light."

"Secure the win with  _MY_ work!" Emma snarled, clenching her fists at her sides.

Neal shrugged, the picture of nonchalance. "Yeah, well, have fun proving it. I even paid a guy in IT to delete all our emails about it from the server."

An image came to Emma's memory of Belle hovering anxiously in her office that afternoon, right before she'd left with Neal and Tamara.  _Belle must've figured it out. She was there to warn me._ Emma stood quivering in rage and pain. She kept her eyes on the floor, surprised at her own ability to keep her voice even. "Why, Neal? What the hell did I ever do to you? What made you pick me to screw over?"

Neal stepped toward her, and raised her chin with a knuckle, but she refused to meet his eyes. His voice was quiet, but harsh. "Like I said, Ems.  _You're nobody_. See,  _I_  actually do my homework on people. When I got transferred to this office, I met this cute blonde piece of ass who seemed thirsty for a taste of me, and decided to check up on her. It's amazing what you can find in public records if you have a law firm's access. You know what I found? Orphan. Juvie record.  _You don't even have a real last name_. Yeah, I found the court records where the Swans dropped their adoption petition."

Emma winced involuntarily and Neal lowered his hand from her face. "Just some little alley cat who probably whored or stripped her way through law school. So, I got you to work on a few cases with me. Figured out you were book smart. Seemed like a perfect set up." Emma's arms were shaking with tension, her nails biting into her palms. Her breaths came hard and labored as she struggled to keep herself under control.

"Honestly, I'm a little disappointed, Emma." Neal continued with a smirk. "I thought you'd be a lot more fun. I figured your good girl act at the office was just for show. That you probably learned a few good fuck tricks living on the streets, and it might be fun to slum it with you at least once. But seriously, if you're just going to be a self-righteous bitch, then you're more trouble than you're worth."

Something inside Emma snapped. She flicked her eyes up to Neal's, and gave him a slow predatory smile. "You know, you forgot something about alley cats. They  _bite!_ " With that she grabbed Neal by the shoulders, and slammed her knee squarely into his groin. He dropped instantly to the floor, doubled up in pain. Emma strode away toward the stairs to the balcony, head held high.

She made it all the way up the staircase and to the back corner of the balcony, away from as many prying eyes as possible (and quite a few sets of eyes had followed her after the spectacle downstairs). She leaned with her back to the wall and wrapped her arms around her stomach as if she could somehow physically hold herself together as the waves of rage and humiliation washed over her, threatening to buckle her knees. She couldn't cry. Not there. Her breathing came in chokes and gasps at first, then it slowed and deepened.

Eventually, with a final long exhale she let her face go blank, and her mind began to spin. The thoughts came in snippets, some in her own voice, some in Neal's, running over and crashing into each other.

_I'm an idiot. Neal screwed me over. You're nobody. More trouble than you're worth. Deleted your name. Deleted the emails. Go ahead make a fool of yourself. They all warned me about him. Killian was right. Elsa and Ruby were right. Belle tried to tell me. I'm so stupid. I've got to get out of here. Don't even have a real last name. You're nobody. You're nobody…_

A buzz at her wrist broke Emma out of her downward spiral, and she became aware of the wallet still hanging from its strap on her arm.  _How long has it been doing that?_ She unzipped the wallet and pulled out her phone to check the notification. She had a missed call from Killian followed by a text message:

**K: Please call back tonight, love. I need to talk to you.**

_Killian!_ Emma's thoughts were too rattled to process why he would need to talk to her right then.  _Oh, God. How am I going to face him? He warned me, and I didn't listen because I'm too damn stubborn. I deserve his I told you so. He deserves to see the trainwreck that I really am._

Then another voice began to rise in the back of Emma's mind – a familiar, deep, accented voice.

_You deserve to be someone's everything… You're a bloody marvel… My job to protect your heart..._

No, Killian would not scorn her with an I told you so, even if she did deserve it.  _He_  wouldn't hurt her intentionally that way. It warmed Emma's aching heart just a little bit that Killian knew her well enough to know not to leave a voicemail because she never checks them, but always checks her texts. He knew how she takes her coffee. He knew to bring her a blanket when they relaxed on the couch because her feet were always cold. He knew dozens of insignificant details about her that added up to mean that  _she wasn't a nobody to him._  And in that moment, she needed him more than air. She needed to feel needed. To be wanted. To be desired. To know she was somebody to someone.

She pressed the call back button on her phone, feeling equally nervous and desperate to hear his voice. Killian answered after only a couple of rings, making Emma suspect he'd been waiting by his phone for her call. "Emma, love, are you home? Because I wanted to - "

"Killian…" Emma interrupted, her voice sounding much shakier than she'd wanted.

She heard the slide of a chair against the floor in the background, and suddenly Killian's voice was low and fierce. "What's wrong, love? What's happened?"

Emma took a deep breath. "Could you just…" Emma paused to collect herself. "Would you mind coming to pick me up? I know it's late…"

"I'll be right there. I'll throw my jeans and shoes back on and leave straight away. What's the name of the club again?"

"The Crow's Nest." Emma sighed, and felt some of the tension begin to leave her body.  _He didn't even hesitate. It's the middle of the friggin' night and he's ready to drop everything and come save my ass._ "And, Killian?"

"Aye, love?"

"Thank you."

Emma ended the call and made her way back down the stairs, her head constantly on the swivel, scanning the crowd. She knew it would be a while before Killian's arrival, and the last thing she needed was to run into Neal again. She refused to hide. She had enough pride left for that. Still, no sense in walking straight into another ugly confrontation.

Instead she managed to snag a seat at the bar on the opposite side of the club from where she'd last seen Neal. The trust-fund frat boy on the next barstool gave Emma an appraising look. He signaled to the nearest bartender, then pointed to Emma. "This beautiful woman is in need of a Jäger Bomb. On me."

The bartender glanced to Emma for confirmation. Emma gave the guy a side-eye glance. "You do realize I'm old enough to babysit you?"

Unabashed, he shrugged and replied, "What can I say? I dig the cougar thing."

Emma closed her eyes for a second. Her nerves and emotions were still raw and her thoughts reeling, and she could really use something to make the noise in her head shut the hell up. She opened her eyes again, and nodded at the bartender, who placed the questionable cocktail in front of her with an expression that clearly said  _better you than me_.

Emma chugged the whole concoction in one go, much to the delight of her barely-legal benefactor.

"Atta girl!" he exclaimed, patting her on the back as she coughed at the burn of the beverage. "Want another?"

_Screw it._  Emma thought, and nodded. "Why the hell not? But this time, just the Jäger. None of that energy drink crap."

"Same," added her seatmate, "and keep 'em coming."

"What he said," she concurred raising her shot glass in a toast to her new drinking buddy.

-x-

Half an hour later, Emma's phone buzzed again.

**K: I'm outside by the valet stand. Do you want me to come inside, or would you rather I wait here?**

Emma patted the frat boy on the back. "My ride's here. Gotta go," she drawled and offered to pay for her share of the Jäger shots.

He waved her away with, "My pleasure."

Emma smiled in thanks and texted Killian back.

**E: On my way out.**

The alcohol was already doing its job, and her mind was now pleasantly fuzzy. The painful voices still swirled through Emma's head, but they had softened to a dull roar. Her eyes panned across the line of cars at the valet stand, and she nearly fell off of her stilettos in relief when she spotted his car.

Killian exited the car as soon as he saw her, and walked around to open her door for her. The concern etched on his face turned quickly to confusion when he noted Emma's hazy smile. He gently placed a hand on the small of her back to guide her into the vehicle, but she surprised him by turning to him and placing a sloppy kiss on his mouth before taking her seat. Killian licked his lips as he walked back to his side of the car, tasting the sweet licorice remnants of the liquor left behind by Emma's kiss, and nodded to himself.

-x-

They didn't talk at first on the drive home. Away from the noise of the club, Emma could once again hear herself think. Much as she didn't want to talk about it, or even think about it (though the latter was unavoidable), she felt she owed Killian some explanation for dragging him uptown this late at night.

Emma kept her gaze straight ahead out the windshield, and took a deep breath. Her voice, when she found it, was quiet but determined. "I'm going to tell you what happened. One time through. But I need you to not stop me, or interrupt me, or ask me questions, because if you do, I won't get through it. And I don't want to talk about it again after I've finished telling you, okay?"

"Emma, if you've been hurt -"

She turned her head, and locked her eyes on his. "Okay?" she repeated more forcefully, lowering her chin and raising her brows slightly.

Killian pressed his lips together in a wan smile and reached out to take Emma's hand. "Okay."

Emma turned her face back to the windshield, and began her tale in as simple and matter-of-fact terms as possible. She told him how Neal had made a pass at her, and she'd shot him down. She told him about finding Neal and Tamara practically in flagrante and the argument that followed. About Neal's treachery in stealing her work. The words he'd said to her - that she was nothing. Nobody. More trouble than she was worth.

True to his agreement, Killian remained silent through Emma's story. His hand on hers remained steady and warm, but Emma could see in her periphery the clench of his jaw and the whitening of his knuckles as he gripped the steering wheel.

By the time she finished talking, they were pulling into the parking lot of their apartment complex. Again, Killian walked around the car to open the door for Emma. She took his proffered hand, lacing her fingers through his, and led him up the stairs to her door and into her apartment.

Once the door closed behind them, Emma grasped Killian's other hand as well and began slowly walking backwards, pulling him into the living room, around the coffee table, and toward the couch. She flashed her wickedest smile at him, but in return, all she saw was a tumultuous sea of anger in his eyes.

"I know I agreed not to talk about it, but all I can think about right now is how much I want to smash my fist through that bloody git's face."

Emma turned them until the backs of Killian's calves hit the foot of the couch. She released his hands, and stepped closer to him, sliding her hands up his torso to rest on his chest. "How about we focus on a few things  _I_ want right now?" With a swift, deft motion, Emma pushed him, knocking him into a seated position on the couch.

Killian stilled, his eyes fixed on her face. The barely-repressed rage in the blue depths of his gaze was now replaced by raw desire tempered by a certain wariness. Emma grasped the hem of her tight skirt with one hand hiking it up her thigh as she kneeled onto the couch straddling his lap. She braced her other hand against the back of the couch next to his head, settling herself slowly and deliberately onto his legs, and leaning in to taste his lips.

Killian's eyes fell shut with a guttural moan, and, for the moment, desire won out. He slid his hands up Emma's thighs to grip her waist and pulled her roughly against him. Emma ground her hips down into his, relishing the friction against her center. His mouth recklessly claimed hers, and she responded in kind, teeth nipping, tongues dancing, breathing each other in, consuming each other.

Emma tangled the fingers of one hand into the soft black hair at the nape of his neck and pulled, guiding his mouth to her throat, her collar bone. She scooted her hips back and arched her body away from him just far enough to make room for her other hand to find the button of his jeans.

The break in contact was enough for Killian to regain some semblance of control. He raised his head to get a better look at her face and gently grasped her wrist, stilling its fumbling with his zipper. "Slow down, love. What are you doing?" he asked, his voice ragged.

Emma raised her eyebrows in a smirk, flicking her eyes down to his lap and back to his face. "I should think that was fairly apparent."

Killian released a breath and turned his face down and away from her. She lifted the hand he still held by the wrist and wiggled her fingers at him, drawing his eyes back to hers. "May I?" she added with a saucy bat of her eyelashes.

Killian reached up to unwrap her other hand from his neck, so he held both her hands in his. "Not like this…" he murmured softly, his expression pained.

Emma squeezed his hands and released them. "Mmm… then is there another position you'd prefer?" she purred, but the innuendo had an edge to it. The alcohol had muffled the cruel words slamming around her skull into a throbbing drone, but anger and humiliation lingered in the background, threatening to break her. She craved a deeper distraction, the fire of lust, the thundering rush of their bodies pressed together.

Emma needed to feel in control again. No, she needed to  _choose_  the means by which she let herself lose control. She wanted to lose herself in Killian, to feel him wanting her. Surely their passion for each other could overcome her pain. Why the hell was he screwing it up?

Killian gently cupped her chin, urging her to meet his searching gaze. "I'm serious, love."

His voice was too soft. Too full of concern.  _This isn't what I want!_ She pulled his hand from her face and moved it back down to her hip.  _Why isn't he kissing me?_

"I'm serious, too." She could hear the chill in her own voice as she leaned in kiss him again. He stopped her with a firm press against her shoulders, and she shook his hands away with a huff.

"Emma, you're hurt, and you've been drinking, and this isn't -"

"This isn't what, Killian?" Emma stood angrily, nearly tripping over the coffee table, which only rankled her further. "This isn't your idea of good form? Doesn't fit with your gentlemanly code? Wouldn't it be  _gentlemanly_  to give a damsel what she needs when she's in distress?"

Killian's earlier anger now returned in full force. He stood to face off with her, his voice low, but fierce. "And  _this_  is what you think you need? Meaningless angry sex?"

"Don't act like you don't want this because a few minutes ago, it was  _very_  apparent how interested you were!" Emma was nearly shouting now, but her voice was starting to crack.  _What did he mean by 'meaningless'?_

"No, Emma, not like this," he repeated, the quaver in her voice seeming to take some of the fire out of him.

"Why not?" Emma rasped. All the pain she'd been pushing down since she ran up those stairs in nightclub was crashing down over her, threatening to drown her. She felt a tremor run through her body, bracing for the words she was terrified she would hear.  _He_   _doesn't want me anymore. He's finally figured it out. Finally realized I'm not worth it. I don't matter._

Killian clenched his fists at his sides and grunted in frustration. "Because I refuse to take advantage of you that way. Because I want you to come to me because you  _want_ me, not because some arsehole wronged you. Because the first time I make love to you, I don't want you thinking about another man."

Emma blinked at him, completely taken aback. Momentarily dumbstruck, her mind spluttered in one- and two-words blips.

_Huh? That's not- Another man? No! But- I don't-_

When she found her voice again, all she could manage to squeak out was, "What?"

Killian sighed and roughly ran a hand through his hair in exasperation. "He's in your head, love. You've let that wanker get inside your mind, and I can see it. I can see you playing his words through your brain on an infinite loop and it  _kills_  me."

Emma could hear his own hurt bleed through his words, and the worry and tenderness in his voice were overwhelming. She sank slowly down into Ruby's armchair. She propped an elbow on the armrest, and rested her forehead in her hand. The tears she'd been fighting for hours were now dangerously close to breaking through, but she willed her breathing to slow and her face to relax into an unreadable mask, her eyes as dead and glassy as a doll's. She couldn't look up at him. She couldn't see his expression or she'd crack into a million little pieces. She stared fixedly at the floor, her voice just above a whisper. "We're not talking about that."

Killian walked over to the chair and knelt on the floor in front of her, moving into her line of vision. Emma retreated further into the chair, wrapping her arms around herself, and trying vainly to hold herself together. "Emma, don't shut me out again. Talk to me. At least give me the chance to convince you how wrong he is."

She didn't respond. She couldn't. It was taking every ounce of energy she had left to not fall apart, and she  _couldn't_  fall apart.

After several seconds of silence, Killian sighed in resignation and stood. "Fine. You should know that in about…" He looked down at his watch, "four hours, I have to leave to go to Houston. I got a call this evening that they are still having problems with some of the machinery out on the rig, and they need my help to get it sorted. That was why I called and texted you earlier. I'm going to be offshore again for a while, and honestly…" He squeezed his eyes shut for a second and exhaled forcefully. "I honestly don't know when I'll be back."

Emma's head snapped up, and she finally looked at him. "You're leaving?" she asked with a tremor in her voice.  _Now? He's leaving me NOW?_

"Aye, love. You don't seem to want me around much anyway," Killian replied flatly.

Emma's world tilted on its axis. She wasn't sure whether he was telling her he was leaving  _town_  or leaving  _her_ , but she couldn't bear to ask. Didn't want to know. Couldn't think straight. Thousands of little fissures spread through her. One more tap and she would shatter. After everything that had happened tonight, now Killian was leaving?

She was losing it, losing everything. Losing her hard work, her self-confidence, her composure - all the things she'd struggled for years to put together. And on top of everything she was losing Killian. The man she'd trusted, that she'd opened up to, that she maybe even…

Emma felt broken, flayed raw. So, she lashed out. "Then I guess you'd better go pack." She was shocked by the ice in her own voice.

"Emma, don't…" She thought she heard a quaver in his voice now, but she couldn't process it. Couldn't look at him.

"Just go, Killian. Leave me alone." She could feel the hot, angry tears finally begin to spill down her cheeks. She kept her face turned away from him so he wouldn't see.

After several seconds, Emma heard his ragged exhale, followed by his footsteps moving toward her door. When she heard the door open and finally latch shut, she broke down. Emma gave herself over fully to the anguish inside, rocking back and forth in the chair, tears pouring down her cheeks, her face screwed into a silent scream. When the tide of emotion finally ebbed, Emma hobbled to her bedroom, tossed her dress to the floor and crashed into bed in her underwear.

That night, for the first time since the day they'd met, there was no knock on Emma's wall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N (continued): Are you still out there? My editor actually read through this chapter and called me a monster... What do you all think? What are your theories about what will happen (or should happen) next?
> 
> TELL ME IN THE REVIEWS!
> 
> I've got one more chapter left that will hopefully make you all forgive me, and then a nice fluffy epilogue. Don't give up!


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This is it folks! The last "real" chapter, though there will be a fluffy epilogue eventually. After all the angst in the last chapter, I promised that this one would make things better. And it does. Eventually...
> 
> So, without further adieu, I present - THE HAPPY ENDING!
> 
> CONTENT WARNING: Speaking of happy endings, there is significant SMUT at the very end of this chapter. If that's not your thing, start skimming where Killian asks if he's in trouble now, to where Emma says it was definitely not a one-time thing.

Emma awoke before dawn to a loud thud followed by muffled cursing coming from the other side of her bedroom wall.  _Killian_...

Her knee-jerk reaction was to run after him, but what would she say?  _Sorry for trying to climb you like a tree, and then turning into a frigid bitch when you shot me down? That hardly seems to cover it. Actually,_ she thought,  _maybe it does..._

Still, she owed him some kind of apology. She knew that much.

She dashed to the bathroom, scrambling to rub the inky smudges of mascara out from under her eyes and scraping her hair into a ponytail.  _Great. I've gone from looking like a zombie to looking like a corpse. Guess this isn't the time for vanity._

Grabbing a rumpled t-shirt and shorts off the floor, she tugged them on and ran for her front door, but as soon as her fingers touched the handle, she hesitated, her courage faltering. She wasn't sure she could face actually having to watch him as he walked away this time.

_No. Don't be a coward, Emma. Go apologize like a grown-ass woman and tell him goodbye properly. He deserves that._

The creak of a door followed by more swearing and the rattle and squeak of luggage wheels told her this was it – the last minute. Emma opened her door just in time to see Killian slam his angrily, the reverberations strong enough to topple his suitcase, which hit the hallway floor with a clatter.

"Bloody buggering  _hell_!" Killian hissed, rubbing his forehead. "What the fuck else is going to-" He froze, finally sensing her eyes on him, and slowly turned toward her. The look on his face stopped her heart.

Empty. His eyes were completely empty. Not only were they devoid of his usual light and warmth, but there wasn't even a trace of anger or sadness. Just nothing. Any hopeful delusion Emma had harbored was snuffed out that instant.

She crossed her arms protectively across her chest. "I- I couldn't let you go without telling you how sorry I am for how I acted last night. I was- I was just awful. You didn't deserve that, and I didn't want to leave us with such a bad goodbye."

Something Emma couldn't identify flashed behind his eyes, and she relaxed slightly. Any emotion from him was better than the nothingness she'd seen first. He took a step in her direction, and she saw his fingers twitch, but then he seemed to retreat inside himself again and turned away, reaching down to haul his suitcase upright.

He took a deep breath and finally turned to meet her eyes again. "I appreciate that, Swan." He nodded once, the corners of his mouth tilting slightly upwards in a weak imitation of his smile. "I hated for us to part that way as well."

_That's it then. I was right. This is over. We're over._  Emma shifted awkwardly, not knowing what to do with herself. "Um, okay then. I, uh, hope you have a safe trip."  _What the hell am I saying?_

He cast his eyes down and stepped back. "Oh. Ah, yes. I should probably be going." He replied, hiking a thumb toward the staircase behind him.

Before she could stop herself, Emma's hand shot out in front of her. "So, then goodbye. I guess."  _A handshake? I'm offering him a fucking handshake?_

Killian paused looking at her hand, an inscrutable expression on his face. He took her hand in his, then turned it over and brushed a kiss against her palm. "Goodbye, Emma," he breathed against her skin then released her hand. He turned and walked away without so much as another word or backwards glance.

Emma allowed herself five seconds to watch him go, then darted back into her apartment. She shut the door behind her, leaning her back against it then sliding down to the floor. She sat there rooted to the spot, her sadness deepening by the second. Unmoving, unblinking, so still that her first choking sob startled her. Then came another sob, then another, the pain of losing him breaking over her in waves.

When she finally peeled herself back off the floor and let her hiccups subside, she checked the clock. Ruby was due at the airport soon, and Emma didn't have her car. Killian had driven her home from the bar last night before... before everything went to hell. A deeper ring of hell, anyway.

She dug her phone out of her purse and dialed Elsa's number. After multiple rings, Elsa answered grumbling a few incoherent syllables that sounded distinctly like curse words.

"Hey," Emma croaked, her throat raw from sobbing, "Could you come pick me up?"

"Wow, you sound like shit," Elsa replied, slightly more awake by now. "Where the hell are you and why the hell do you need to be picked up at the crack of dawn?"

Emma sighed wearily. "I'm at home," she answered, "but I left my car at the bar last night. I'm supposed to pick Ruby up from the airport in a little over an hour."

"I'm getting the sense that there's a story here?" Elsa interpreted.

"You could say that."

"And I'm also guessing it doesn't have a happy ending?"

"You're two for two." Emma's voice cracked slightly. "Elsa knows all." Emma tried to laugh, but it came out as choked, painful sound.

"Oh, honey," Elsa sighed sympathetically. "I'll be right there."

-x-

Elsa arrived at Emma's apartment about 20 minutes later. For once, she didn't look like her fresh and frosty self. Instead of a Pinterest-worthy side braid, Elsa's hair was twisted into a haphazard knot. Fuzzy, Cookie-Monster-blue slippers graced her feet. Even in her current mental state, Emma couldn't help but snicker, albeit half-heartedly.

Elsa pointed a warning finger at her friend. "I don't want to hear it. You drag me out of bed on a Saturday morning, this is what you get."

"I'll behave," Emma replied. "It's just nice to see you looking like one of us ordinary mortals for a change."

Elsa rolled her eyes. "How are we doing on time before Ruby's plane arrives?"

Emma checked the time on her phone. "Fine. Plenty of time for you to drop me at my car and for me to drive to the airport."

"Do we have time to drop your car back here in between?"

Emma frowned in confusion. "Probably. Why?"

"Because there's no way in hell I'm gonna miss this story. Let's get your car taken care of and we'll pick up Ruby together and all go to Granny's so you can tell your whole family at once. With coffee. And pancakes."

Emma's eyes misted and she blearily nodded her assent. "Thank you," she squeaked. She cleared her throat before saying, "Let's go."

-x-

When they retrieved Ruby from the airport, it was all Elsa could do to get her to back down and allow Emma wait to tell them everything when they got to the diner. ("Alright, but dammit! I'm never leaving town again if every time you pick me up, you're in the middle of an existential crisis!")

When the three arrived at Granny's, the elderly woman took one look at Emma's face and shook her head. "You girls, go sit down. I'll get the coffee and join you in half a sec."

They did as instructed, taking up residence in a corner booth. Soon enough, Granny ambled over with a carafe of coffee in hand, pulled up a chair to the end of the table, and poured them all a cup.

Ruby had done all the waiting she could stand. "Honey, I'm not even going to ask if you're okay, because clearly you're not." She reached across the table and took Emma's hand, giving it an encouraging squeeze. "So, spill. Now. Whatever happened, we're all here for you."

Emma took a deep breath and spilled her guts. She told the whole sordid tale of Neal's betrayal, earning her several angry  _are-you-shitting-me_ 's from Ruby and an offer from Granny to "take the crossbow out of retirement." Elsa didn't make a sound, but Emma could feel her friend shaking with rage next to her.

Before her surrogate family could burst into supportive indignation on her behalf, Emma continued with what transpired between her and Killian. There was no more righteous wrath from the group this time. As Emma's voice shook and finally broke into a watery sob, Elsa wrapped an arm around her shoulders and Ruby and Granny each gave one of Emma's hands a quick tight squeeze.

"So, it's over," Emma finished. "I pushed him away, and he let me. He's gone."

"No!" Ruby smacked the table with her hand emphatically, and pointed at Emma. "Don't you even think that. That man is crazy about you, and I'm pretty sure the feeling is mutual. You are not the girl that gives up, Emma. You just need to talk to him."

"I did talk to him," Emma sighed. "He literally said 'goodbye'."

"No. Ruby's right, Emma Ruth." Granny chimed in. "You need to fight for your man. A woman who doesn't fight for what she wants, deserves what she gets. That goes for your job, too." Granny paused, narrowing her eyes in contemplation. "Seems to me that since your fella is out in the middle of the ocean right now, it might just be a good idea to let him -  _and you_  - cool off for a bit. Take care of putting this Neal character in his place first. I'm sure the three of you girls can come up with some kinda plan, but if you get stuck, my crossbow is at your service."

Granny stood, then leaned in and gave Emma a maternal kiss on the forehead. "I've got faith in you, honey. You'll figure out a way to give those boys hell. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got customers to attend to, at least a little bit."

As soon as Granny had shuffled away, Elsa growled. "I feel completely impotent here. I'm just so pissed that that bastard Cassidy managed to time this so we'd be locked out of the system for the weekend." She slammed her fist on the table, then froze.

Emma waved a hand in front of her face. "Earth to Elsa. Where'd you go? I can see the cogs whirling in that brain of yours."

Elsa snapped to attention, grabbed her phone, and stood. "Do you guys mind if I step outside to make a phone call?"

Ruby raised her eyebrows and gestured toward the door. "Knock yourself out."

While they waited for Elsa to return, Ruby continued to try to convince Emma that Killian would come back. That he'd probably just show up one day with some silly romantic gesture and they could just kiss and make up.

Emma smiled wanly at her friend, but in her mind _,_ all her thoughts were disparaging. _I've been left behind again, and this time I know it's my fault. I pushed him away. I had the chance for something real, but now I'll never find my way back. Once a lost girl, always a lost girl._

Elsa returned wearing an expression Emma lovingly referred to as her "game face."  _Okay, let's deal with the problem that_ maybe _we can actually fix_ , Emma thought, steeling her resolve. She huffed out a breath and sat up straighter in the booth.

"So what's the plan?" she asked. "I can tell you have one. Gimme something I can work with." Emma lowered her head and waved her hands toward herself as if to say  _lay it on me._

"Okay," Elsa began as she slid back into the booth. "I just got off the phone with Belle. You said Neal deleted all the emails between HIMSELF and you about the Midas brief. He didn't say anything about the ones between you and Belle or between you and me. We're gonna have to work really fast Monday morning when the system comes back online. As soon as it does, Belle and I will print out all those emails, and you can march right into Regina's office with at least some kind of proof."

Emma brightened as a small flicker of hope ignited inside her. "Do you think it'll be enough?"

Elsa shrugged and gave her a half-smile. "It's not much, but it's better than nothing. Belle and I will come with you for back up, too, if you want."

Emma wrapped an arm around Elsa and leaned her head on her friend's shoulder. " _Thank_ you," she replied earnestly.

Elsa chuckled to herself. "It's the least we can do." She briefly rested her head atop Emma's. "It'll serve him right, and be a nice little piece of poetic justice to boot. That jackass always forgets about the paralegals, so it's only fitting that we get to help take him down."

One corner of Emma's mouth twitched up at that. They had a game plan. If nothing else, it gave her something to think about that wasn't the Killian-shaped hole in her heart.

_No. I'm not going there now. One thing at a time._

Emma took a deep breath to center herself, and raised her head up from Elsa's shoulder. "Okay, enough about my mess." She turned her attention to Ruby. "This is the second deposition trip where you've come back only to have me rain on your victory parade. So, now it's your turn to spill. Did you make another witness cry?"

Ruby beamed and flicked her hair over her shoulder dramatically. "Damn right I did! They didn't even know what hit 'em. You mess with the She-wolf, you get the teeth." She punctuated the statement with a predatory chomp on a piece of bacon.

Emma and Elsa laughed, but Ruby went on talking excitedly through her mouthful of food. "Seriously guys - opposing counsel is now offering us a multi-million dollar settlement!"

Emma's jaw dropped open. "Rubes! That's amazing!"

"Hell yeah!" Elsa exclaimed, high-fiving Ruby across the table.

Ruby waggled an eyebrow and half-shrugged feigning nonchalance. "Ehn, all in a day's work."

Emma smiled, genuinely happy for her friend. If the smile didn't fully reach her eyes - if there was a shadow of pain still lingering there - then her friends had the good grace not to mention it.

-x-

Monday morning, Emma arrived early to work and headed straight to Elsa's office. Belle was already poised behind Elsa's computer when Emma arrived, the three having planned to meet there since Elsa had her own printer. It would be slower printing everything on the smaller device, but this way there was no risk of Neal catching Belle reproducing the incriminating emails on the industrial-sized communal machine.

At a quarter to nine, the announcement went out over the office intercoms that the system was back online and ready to use. Belle flew into action, logging into her email on Elsa's computer and sending everything to the printer as fast she could. The machine hummed to life, but it was slow and tedious. Sitting in a chair across from the desk, Emma couldn't help bouncing her knee nervously and stealing frequent glances at the clock.

_8:50… 8:55… 9:00… Shit, the meeting is starting right now. I'm really going to have to storm the castle. I was hoping to get in there before Neal did._

"Done!" Belle pulled the last page off the printer with a flourish, and handed the stack to Emma. "Now you go get 'em."

"We'll be right behind you," Elsa added, giving Emma's arm a squeeze of solidarity. "Do you want us to come in with you?"

"No. I've got this," Emma stated with conviction. "But if you two don't mind waiting in the hall in case Regina wants to talk to you…?"  
"Of course," Belle agreed. Elsa nodded her acquiescence as well.

Emma took a deep breath, gathering her courage. Her palms were beginning to dampen, and the feeling in the pit of her stomach was less the flutter of butterflies and more the swarming of angry hornets, but she was not about to back down.

"Then let's go," she replied. With that, she turned on her heel, squared her shoulders, and marched toward Regina's office. She was reassured more than she could say by the supportive  _click-clack_  of two additional sets of high heels against the polished wood floor behind her.

Just as the three arrived at Regina's door, it opened to reveal Neal Cassidy leaving. Emma froze but stood her ground, narrowing her eyes at Neal's cold glare until he stalked away. Despite maintaining a cool exterior, a pit opened up in the bottom of Emma's stomach.

_I'm too late. The damage is done. She's not going to believe me._

"Miss Swan!" Regina's voice rang through the now fully opened door, snapping Emma back to attention. "Unless you intend to loiter in the hallway like a vagrant for the rest of the morning, I suggest you come inside."

Emma nodded and walked slowly and as calmly as she could into Regina's office, feeling every bit like a grade schooler being called in to see the principal. She noted with surprise that neither Cora Mills - Regina's mother and the other founding partner of the firm - nor Gold were present. Emma stopped behind a chair and gripped the back of it tightly with one hand, reaching out with the other hand to offer the stack of emails to her boss.

She took a breath and prepared to deliver the speech she'd been rehearsing in her head. But before she could utter a word, Regina took a cursory glance at the stack of papers in Emma's hand and held up her own hand in a  _stop_  gesture.

"Sit down, Miss Swan," Regina stated flatly. "Those won't be necessary." She indicated the emails with a tilt of her head.

Emma felt as though the ground was about to swallow her whole. "But, Ms. Mills…" she began desperately.

Regina raised a regal eyebrow and fixed Emma with a silencing stare. "I think you may be interested to know that Mr. Cassidy has just been fired."

Emma's eyes flew wide.  _What the? But… WHAT?_ She lowered her arm and absently placed the stack of emails on the seat of the chair in front of her.

Noting Emma's apparent sudden onset of muteness, Regina continued. "Do you recall several weeks ago in Miss Arendelle's office that you spoke to me about a strategy of yours regarding the Midas brief?"

Emma blinked, thinking back. She  _had_  talked to Regina about it - just a barely a few sentences, but then that was what had prompted Regina to ask for -

"The original red-line. You asked Elsa to send you the link." Emma replied, trying to keep her voice even while her thoughts did handsprings around her brain.

"Indeed." Regina nodded, seemingly pleased. "It was the oddest thing, you bringing up that brief to me. You see, Mr. Cassidy had never mentioned that you, or anyone else for that matter, were helping him with it. So, I checked the tracking on that red-line every so often. Just to see what other surprises Cassidy might have up his sleeve. Do you know what I saw?"

Emma shook her head, not wanting to say a word for fear the hope bubbling up in her chest would burst and dissipate.

Regina inclined her head toward Emma. " _Your name_  in the metadata, Miss Swan. And eventually, Miss French's. No other user names had edited the file. Oh, Mr. Cassidy may very well have opened it and read it, as did I, but it appears he never so much as corrected a typographical error. That gives me a fair idea of who  _actually_ did the work." Regina paused and raised both brows, gesturing to Emma with one hand. "Unless of course, you're here to tell me that he dictated every word to you and you merely typed it up for him?"

Emma furrowed her brows, incensed. "Did he seriously try to tell you that?"

Regina scoffed and leaned back in her chair. "No, no. I'm afraid he wasn't quite creative enough to come up with that excuse when I confronted him this morning."

Some of the tension left Emma's body at that, her fists unclenching at her sides, as Regina continued. "You see, we at GMM - and most specifically I - do not take kindly to employees attempting to steal credit for the work of others. So, I canceled the meeting with the other partners this morning and called Mr. Cassidy in here to see if he could give me a satisfactory explanation as to why the red-line file I'd been watching for  _weeks_  suddenly and mysteriously disappeared Friday afternoon only to be replaced by a brand new nearly identical file minutes later."

Emma's heart hammered in her chest, but she managed to keep her voice steady. " _Nearly_ identical?" she asked.

"Yes. The new file only had one author's name listed. Fancy that," Regina deadpanned. "And if one were to look at the tracking on the new file, it would appear that the entire document had been written in one sitting and within the span of about 5 minutes. Mr. Cassidy has a certain low cunning, which I presume he inherited from his father…" she paused giving a slight roll of her eyes, "but he's not quite as thoroughly clever as he thinks he is."

Emma huffed an incredulous laugh. "Apparently not."

"Needless to say, we do not tolerate such behavior at GMM - even from the son of a partner." She paused again, running an appraising eye over Emma. "I take it from your lack of response to my referring to Cassidy as Gold's son, you were already privy to that fact?"

Emma flushed slightly at the still raw memory of  _how_  she'd come to know of Neal's parentage. She nodded quickly. "Yes. I've, uh, been made aware."

Regina hummed. "Very well. Enough about Cassidy." She laced her fingers together and leaned forward resting her forearms on the desk. "Now let us discuss  _your_  future at this firm."

Emma blanched, briefly feeling as though the floor had disappeared from beneath her. "Ms. Mills, I-" she stuttered.

"You're a very talented attorney, Miss Swan," Regina interrupted, and Emma clamped her jaw shut with a soft  _click_  of her teeth _._  "And the work you did on the Midas brief is inspired. I have no doubt the clients will be very pleased with the outcome of our appeal. Moreover, I am impressed that you took the initiative that day in Miss Arendelle's office to tout your own work to me, and to come down here to speak up for yourself this morning. I respect a woman with backbone. Judging by the hovering presence of Miss Arendelle and Miss French in my corridor, you also seem to have earned the trust and respect of the administrative staff, which shows promising managerial and people skills. All these are necessary qualities for the partnership track."

At those words, Emma found her voice again. "Partnership track?"

"Yes, Miss Swan. The firm is prepared to offer you the position of Junior Partner effective immediately. The title comes with certain additional responsibilities including training and supervising new hires to the firm, as well as marketing and client relations, and, of course, maintaining your existing case docket. Miss Arendelle will be assigned to you exclusively to assist you with these additional duties. Do you accept?"

Relief and joy washed over Emma in waves. She stood, sure that she was grinning like an idiot, and extended her hand to Regina who gave it a curt, but professional shake. "Yes, ma'am. I accept."

"Good." Regina replied with a nod. "In case you are curious, the other Junior Partnership position is being offered to Miss Lucas as we speak. I trust the two of you will be able to work together?"

If possible, Emma smiled even more brightly. "I believe we can handle that."

"See that you do. Miss French will be re-assigned as Miss Lucas's paralegal effective immediately as well. Consider it your first act as Junior Partner to inform her, assuming she is still camped outside my door. Your new contract will be delivered to your office later this afternoon for your perusal. Now, if you'll excuse me, there is apparently quite a bit of paperwork involved in terminating an employee. Please shut the door behind you."

"Yes, ma'am. Thank you, Ms. Mills." Emma bobbed her head in what she would realize later embarrassingly resembled a curtsy and exited the office.

She ignored Belle and Elsa's questioning expressions, grabbing them each by an arm and practically running with them in tow to the break room. She gave them a quick whispered summary of the conversation in Regina's office, and they all hugged fiercely, squealing like schoolgirls. Emma finally felt like things were looking up.

-x-

"Rubes! Hurry up! Belle and Elsa will be here any minute," Emma called. She opened the fridge to check and see if the bottle of champagne she'd bought for the evening's celebration was properly chilled yet. Not that she was any kind of connoisseur, but it seemed cold enough to suit her. It would be just the thing to fancy up the dinner out they'd planned at her favorite B.Y.O.B Italian place.

"Alright, alright. I was emailing Vic the good news. Lemme just fluff my hair and I'll be good to go," Ruby replied from the next room.

_I was emailing Vic the good news._  It was a perfectly innocent offhand comment, but it hit Emma like a punch in the gut. The person she most wanted to share her good news with was gone.  _Maybe Vic will tell him_ , she thought.  _Maybe he'll care. Maybe some part of him can still be a little bit proud of me._

Emma allowed herself a few seconds to indulge in wistful misery, but as soon as she heard the knock on the door heralding Elsa and Belle's arrival, she shook off her dark humor and plastered on a smile to greet her friends.

There were moments during the dinner when Emma forgot the ache in her heart, when she laughed out loud, when her smile lit her whole face. Looking around the table, Emma was overcome with gratitude for these women. Like Granny had told her just over a week ago, she did seem to have a lot of  _family_  for an orphan. People who cared, who would fight by her side, who would pick her up when she fell.

After the check was paid, Belle rose from her seat. "I better head home and get some rest. Don't want to be late tomorrow, or my  _new boss_  will have my head," she said with a cheeky grin at Ruby.

Ruby laughed. "Yeah, I hear she can be a real bitch." She stood and pulled Belle in for a quick hug, Emma and Elsa following suit.

After Belle's departure, Emma turned to Elsa. "How about you? You wanna come over for popcorn and re-runs of trashy reality shows? I'm pretty sure  _your_  new boss is more scared of you than you are of her, so I think you're safe if you run late tomorrow."

"You got any  _Real Husbands of Storybrooke_  on the DVR? That's my fave," Elsa replied with exaggerated seriousness.

Ruby looked scandalized, pressing a hand to her heart. "Um,  _yeah!_  That one's the  _best_. Hellooooooo Hot Dads Club."

Elsa chuckled, nodding her agreement. "Then I'm in. I'll follow you over there."

-x-

Back at Emma and Ruby's apartment, Elsa and Emma were seated on the couch while Ruby puttered around the kitchen getting the popcorn ready. Elsa played Sudoku on her phone and Emma restlessly flipped through the channels, only half-listening as Ruby prattled on about her favorite  _Real Husbands_  cast members.

"But seriously, Ginny and Josh - I mean,  _relationship goals_  right there. I just ship the hell out of them. I know you're never supposed to ship real people, but it's okay when they're actually married in real life, right?"

"Yeah, I think you're safe there," Emma murmured as a breaking news bulletin caught her eye. She stopped her channel surfing and turned up the volume, swatting Elsa's leg to get her attention. Elsa looked up at the image on the television and dropped her phone, completely ignoring the clatter as it hit the floor.

"Ruby," Emma called over her shoulder, unable to tear her eyes away from the screen. When Ruby continued her monologue ("There's no  _way_  that Sean getting Bex pregnant was an accident because  _come on -_ she's Lana's sister, but they don't look  _that_ much alike!"), Emma practically screamed at her. " _RUBY!_ "

Ruby finally looked at the TV and stopped her drabble midword. She walked into the living room and sank slowly into her arm chair. "Is that…?" Ruby asked breathlessly, taking in the scene the reporter was describing in voice-over. The picture showed an oil platform nearly obscured by thick black smoke, with occasional bright licks of orange flame. The caption read: "Rig Fire in Gulf of Mexico."

"I was hoping you would know," Emma answered, her voice sounding strangely dead to her own ears. "I thought maybe you or Elsa knew the call sign or serial number or whatever the hell it is for the rig that Victor and Graham are on."

_And Killian. Killian would be there, too._

Ruby shook her head. "I mean I do know it, but you can't really tell anything with all that smoke. It's not like I could pick a drilling platform out of a line-up."

"Same," Elsa added. "We should try to call them." She gave a sidelong glance to Emma, when she felt her friend tense on the couch next to her. "Vic and Graham, I mean. If it wasn't their rig, they should have a wifi signal, and we can reach them on Skype."

Emma pulled her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, still clutching the remote control in one hand like a lifeline. Ruby grabbed her phone off the coffee table as Elsa recovered hers from the floor, and both women began frantically tapping their screens. Several painful moments later, they both lowered their phones from their ears. Emma looked desperately back and forth between her friends.

"Straight to voicemail?" Elsa asked.

Ruby exhaled heavily and nodded.

A reporter's face appeared on the screen, and Emma waved her free hand at the TV to direct her friends' attention. The news anchor stated that there were multiple reports of injuries, but the full extent of the damage and casualties was as yet unknown. All personnel were being evacuated. She gave the identifier of the rig and one look at Ruby and Elsa's faces told Emma exactly what she had feared. It was  _that_  rig. The horrifying image of smoke and fire and destruction they'd been watching on a loop for the last ten minutes - the guys were there.

_Killian is there._

Ruby stood from her chair and moved toward the couch, giving Emma a nudge to indicate she should move over. Emma scooted to make room, and Ruby settled next to her grabbing a throw blanket from the arm of the couch and tossing it over her legs. Emma took hold of an edge of the blanket. She spread it so that it covered the three of them, and they all huddled together in silent commiseration, eyes glued to the TV.

Over an hour later with no new information, Elsa exhaled dejectedly and stood. "I'm gonna go." She mumbled, rubbing her tired eyes. "They're not going to tell us anything new tonight. There's no way to reach the guys, and even if by some miracle they had a cell or wifi signal, they're kind of in the middle of a crisis right now. I'm sure they're all focused on getting everyone evacuated." She paused, meeting both Emma's and Ruby's eyes in turn. There was a barely detectable crack in her voice as she continued. "We should all get some sleep. See what we can find out in the morning."

Emma and Ruby stood and walked her to the door. As it clicked closed again, Ruby turned to Emma. "She has a point, you know. We're really not gonna learn anything new about the accident tonight."

Emma rubbed the tense muscles at the back of her neck, then tilted her head up as though the ceiling could provide her the answers she wanted. "I know," she sighed.

"But there's no way in hell I'm going to be able to sleep tonight," Ruby added.

Emma lowered her face to meet her friend's empathetic gaze. "Me either," she replied with a small shake of her head.

Ruby pulled her into a hug. They didn't cry. Crying would make it too real, would be like some admission of defeat. They just held each other for a few moments, each grateful for the other's understanding, each happy to lend a little bit of her own strength to her friend.

"The guys are gonna be okay, Emma," Ruby whispered as they pulled away from each other. "All  _three_  of them."

Emma took a deep breath and nodded. "I'm just so…" she paused, wiping a hand across her face.  _What am I? Terrified? Angry with myself? Miserable?_  "I don't know. What if the last thing I get to say to him is 'goodbye, have a nice trip'?" She laughed bitterly. "What if I never get to..." Emma scrunched her eyes shut. "To tell him -"

"That you love him?" Ruby interjected with a knowing look.

Emma's eyes flew open, and she knew her face had gone white as a sheet as she stammered, "Ruby, no - I don't - I mean it's only been -"

Ruby crossed her arms and raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Mmhm. Girl, please. I can practically smell it on you."

Emma's heart pounded, her mouth hanging open.  _Is she right? She can't be right. It's way too soon. I mean that's crazy. Isn't it? Besides even if I do love Killian - and I'm not saying that I do - I've already fucked it up. I fucked it up, and he left, and now he might even be…_

Rather than process her own emotions, Emma decided to go on the offensive. "So then what about you? Did you ever say the words to Victor?"

Ruby looked down shyly with a small half-smile. "I did, actually." Emma was stunned, both by Ruby's answer as well as her usually brazen friend's sudden demure behavior. Before Emma could formulate a response, Ruby continued, her voice now resolute, "Which is why I refuse to accept that our boys are anything but fine."

Emma blinked twice and exhaled heavily. "Fair enough, I guess. So…" she gestured in the direction of the couch and television. "If we're not going to sleep tonight, what do you say we get that  _Real Husbands_  marathon started? It'll be a good distraction so we don't go crazy, and we can check the news between each episode so we don't miss any updates."

Ruby grabbed Emma's hand and gave it a quick squeeze. "Sounds like a plan."

-x-

By a little after 1:00 the next afternoon, Emma was nursing her sixth cup of god-awful breakroom coffee, struggling to stay awake. She and Ruby had finally passed out in the wee hours of the morning, but even those few hours of sleep had been fitful. The silly reality show was supposed to have been a distraction, a means of taking her mind off the horrible fear and angst. But, the way one of the couples looked at each other...it was exactly the way that Killian looked at her. ( _HAD looked at me. Before._ )

One of the guys, Colin, even looked a little bit like Killian if you squinted. Killian's eyes were much bluer, of course, and his smile more devilishly handsome, but the resemblance was enough that Killian's eyes haunted Emma's dreams. Specifically, the way those eyes had looked at her the last time she'd seen them: distant, hollow, unreadable.

She knew now.  _God knows I've been thinking about it enough_. She knew that he had been as scared as she was. That he was as much a lost boy as she was a lost girl. Yet he had wanted to be there for her, to fight for what they had together ( _COULD have had together_ ), even after she let Neal make a fool of her. Even after she'd made a fool of herself, trying to use Killian as little more than a plaything to soothe her battered ego. She was thankful now that he'd had the self-respect to stop her, to keep them from doing something that they both would've regretted later. But at the time, she was so broken, so terrified that he was finally seeing her for what she really was, that it had just felt like one more rejection. So, she'd rejected him instead. Rather than let  _him_  protect her heart, as he'd asked of her, she'd tried to protect it herself by shutting him out and managed to break both of their hearts in the process.

And now... Now, at least she'd gotten to apologize to him, but it wasn't enough. There was so much more she wanted to say, _needed_  him to know. She didn't expect him to forgive her, ( _he shouldn't forgive me_ ) but she owed him an explanation for her actions, needed him to know how thankful she was for everything he'd done for her, how much he meantto her.  _Means to me._

More than anything though, she just wanted him to be okay. Alive and whole. As much as she couldn't imagine her life without him, she would deal with it just as long as he was alright. She could find a way to deal with never hearing his smooth, soulful voice again. Never seeing the way the deep blue of his eyes flashed with light as he laughed and darkened with desire as he pulled her close. Never feeling the soft warmth of his lips or the way his strong calloused hands caressed her so gently. Never again spend hours just talking with each other, or wake up to his sleepy smile and tousled hair, his spicy, intoxicating and distinctly male scent surrounding her. Emma would find some means of making do without all of those things as long as Killian was safe and well.

_Oh God, Ruby was right. I am in love with him_.  _I love him and I need him to be okay._   _Please, God, just let him be okay._

Her silent prayer was interrupted by Ruby dashing frantically into her office holding a cell phone out in front of her. Seconds later, Elsa followed, looking perplexed.

Before Emma could do more than shoot Ruby a puzzled glance, Ruby tapped an icon on the phone and spoke. "Vic. I have Emma and Elsa here. You're on speaker. Now tell them what you just told me."

Emma stood and moved around her desk to huddle closer to the phone as Victor's voice crackled in from the other line. "There was a blow out on the rig. We still don't know exactly what the hell happened, but it ruptured one of the gas lines which caused the fire. I'm a little banged up, but Graham is still in the hospital in Houston."

Emma and Ruby both cut their eyes to Elsa, taking in her stricken expression and the way she unconsciously pressed a hand to her chest.

Victor's voice continued. "He and I were both hauling ass to evacuate our crew and Graham took a pretty good hit to the chest from falling debris. The doc said he's lucky it didn't crush his heart, but he's gonna be okay. Just some broken ribs right now. They're keeping him there for observation, they said. Make sure there's no internal bleeding or whatever. Hell, I don't know. I'm no doctor." Emma heard Elsa sigh in relief as Victor hesitated, seeming reluctant to go on. Emma held her breath.

"I haven't seen Killian since before the blow out. He was on the other end of the rig from me when it happened, and the hospital was a madhouse - people rushing around everywhere." He paused awkwardly, and cleared his throat. "For what it's worth there haven't been any reported deaths yet."

_Yet_. To Emma, the word seemed to hang in the air like a specter.

"Thanks, baby." Ruby spoke up. "Are you on your way up here?"

"Yeah, I'm on the road right now. I'll see you in a few hours. Love you, Rubes."

Ruby actually blushed. "Love you, too. Call me if you hear anything else."

Elsa had been looking down at the floor, lost in her own thoughts, but her head snapped up at that. She shot Ruby an incredulous look that clearly said 'we're talking about this later'.

Tucking her hair behind one ear sheepishly, Ruby ended the call and turned to Emma, but before she could say anything, Emma spoke first. "Elsa, you should go ask Regina if you can take off a day or two to go see Graham."

Elsa looked momentarily taken aback. "Oh." Her eyes darted between Emma and Ruby. "Do you think she'd approve it?" she asked hopefully.

"We don't have any pressing deadlines at the moment, and if something comes up, I'll get Belle to help me. You never take time off. You should go."

Ruby nodded her agreement. "Go. We'll somehow trudge along without you."

Elsa smiled gratefully and a little guiltily. "Thank you. I've got a few things I need to finish, and then I'll go talk to Regina. I'll call you both later tonight."

After Elsa's departure, Ruby turned her attention back to Emma, who seemed utterly fascinated with picking at her own fingernails. "Hey," she said softly. "He's okay. You know he's going to be okay. Victor said-"

"He said 'yet', Ruby. No reported fatalities  _yet_." Emma murmured. She flicked her eyes up to meet Ruby's for a split second to let her point sink in, then resumed her anxious cuticle assault. "Even still, he could be hurt. You heard what happened to Graham." She looked up again and gave a curt shake of her head. "I just want to do some mindless paperwork and try not to think for a while."

Ruby offered her a sad smile. "Okay, honey. I'm here if you need me."

"Thanks. And Rubes? I'm really happy for you and Victor. Even if I don't exactly look it right now."

Ruby nodded and gave Emma's arm a pat, then turned and walked away. Emma flopped wearily into her desk chair, grabbed the nearest stack of documents to review and a red pen to mark them with, and buried herself in her work. She only allowed herself to think about Killian every fifth page or so. Maybe every third.

Eventually, she gave up trying not to think about him, her eyes constantly drawn to the cell phone sitting next to her coffee cup.  _Ruby got through to Vic finally. Maybe I could… Maybe he's…_

She was pushing the 'Killian' speed dial button on her phone before she could talk herself back out of it. After several rings, a mechanical voice came on the line. "Killian Jones is not available at this time. Please leave a message and he will return your call as soon as possible."

Emma smiled ruefully to herself, cursing her own foolishness, and waited for the beep. "Killian, it's me. It's Emma. I heard about what happened on the rig, and Victor called Ruby, but he hadn't seen you, and I know we're not…" Emma paused, her breath hitching. She knew her voice was cracking like a pubescent boy's, but she didn't care as she continued, "I just want to know that you're okay. Please. Just let me know if you're okay."

She hung up the phone and rested her head in her hands for ten seconds. Ten seconds she allowed herself for another silent prayer and wallowing in self-loathing, then she picked her pen back up and got back to work.

-x-

Emma didn't look up from her laptop when she heard the tentative knock on her door hours later. "Elsa, it's after 5:00. Get your ass on the road. I am perfectly capable of holding down the fort without you, while you take care of Graham."

"So Elsa's off to see Graham, then?" It was the last voice Emma expected, and the one she was most desperate to hear. Her fingers froze on her keyboard and she slowly lifted her eyes to see Killian standing in her doorway. He was scratched and bruised, one cut on his right cheek looked deep enough to leave a scar, but he was alive and intact and  _right there in her freaking office_. "That's good. He's restless as hell in that hospital. I know he'll be glad of her company."

Emma felt as though she was seeing a ghost. Her mind struggled to comprehend and catch up. Brows furrowed, she shook her head slowly, almost expecting the image of him to disappear if she angled her head the wrong way. A breathless "How are you here?" was the only response she could manage.

A flush crept across Killian's cheeks, and he shuffled his feet nervously. "Oh. Well, a receptionist let me in. I guess I should've asked her to buzz you, to see if you were busy." He babbled, becoming visibly more anxious by the second, but Emma was still too shocked by his presence to interrupt him. "I, ah - I got your message. I would've called to tell you I was coming, but my phone ran out of battery on the drive up from Houston, and my charger is at the bottom of the Gulf of Mexico by now." He shrugged and restlessly fiddled with his rings. "So, you saw on the news about the accident?" He took a step closer to her.

Emma nodded mutely, never taking her eyes off his face.  _The accident where I thought you were dead or lying in a pool of blood somewhere? And I never got the chance to talk to you again? To tell you - ! You mean that accident?_

Seeming to realize that Emma either could not or would not be contributing to this conversation, Killian cast his gaze to the floor, thumbing at the inner corner of one eye and then continued. "After they evacuated us, by the time I got to the hospital, Vic had already been released. I checked in with Graham, and then hit the road as soon as the doctor cleared me."

He gave a hollow laugh and self-deprecating smile as he paced closer still. "I drove straight to Dallas. Dirty. Bloody. No sleep. I went to your apartment, but you weren't home. I figured you were still at the office, so I just showered and came straight here. I…" He paused twisting his rings again. "I suppose I should've waited until you got off work and came home, but I was too keen to see you, to hear your voice."

The earnestness in his voice caused Emma's breath to catch, the slight sound making Killian finally look up to meet her eyes again. A few more steps brought him to stand behind one of the chairs across from Emma's desk. He gripped the back of the chair. "I hate the way we left things, Emma." His voice was stronger now, still hesitant, but without the undertone of defeat. "I, uh, also wanted to give you something. Victor told me about your promotion before the accident. That's bloody amazing, Swan." His eyes shone with pride for her, and Emma felt her own begin to mist.  _Say something. Say anything. Don't just sit there._

He pulled a tiny drawstring pouch out of his pocket as he moved around Emma's desk to stand beside her. She raised one hand, and he gently placed the item in her upturned palm. Then he took a seat in a chair across from the desk, looking at her expectantly. "Maybe now this could be considered a congratulatory present."

Emma opened the pouch, and pulled out a small gold disc, about the size of a dime, strung on a delicate chain. The disc had an eight-point star cut out of the middle, and as she turned it over in her fingers, she could make out tiny engraved letters at the four cardinal points: _N, S, E, W._ Her mouth dropped open as recognition blossomed, her breathing becoming shallow.

"It's a compass," she whispered as much to herself as to him. She raised her eyes to his face, only to catch him grinning sheepishly, one hand scratching behind an ear.

"Aye. Well, you see," he began awkwardly, "I saw that in a shop last week, before -" He paused and gestured vaguely between them, a shadow passing over his expression. "Before what happened. Actually, I found it the day after you accepted my key." He paused, a small smile briefly lighting his features at the memory. "It stuck with me, what you'd said about feeling like a lost girl. I'd felt deeply lost myself for a long time. You gave me hope and direction again, Emma. You became my true north. You are my compass, guiding me home. And you deserve to have that, too. To find your home and family and- and _love_." He barely breathed the last word, casting his eyes to the floor again.

Emma's eyes widened.  _What is he saying? He can't mean - not after how I've treated him._

He huffed out the ghost of a laugh and looked back up at something in the distance, a wry half-smirk twisting his lips. "When I heard your message, I- I hoped that..." He closed his eyes and cast the thought away with a quick shake of his head. "No matter." He opened his eyes to finally lock on hers, and she could see the quiet resolve in their blue depths.

_No. No he thinks that- Say something. He's gonna leave again if you don't. Why can't I make words?! Ugh!_

He spoke with calm determination. "You need to know you're worthy of those things - home, family, love, all of it - and I have every faith that you can and will find whatever you're still seeking. I thought maybe now the compass could be my way of reminding you that you don't need to feel lost ever again. You truly already have a home and people who love you - a family of the heart instead of blood. I'd like to be a part of that still, if you'll allow me. We can go back to where we started - mates again, or-"

"Killian, stop." Emma finally found her voice again. "I don't want that. I don't want to be mates."

His face fell. "Right." He absently nodded and quickly rose from the chair, looking anywhere but at her. "Right, then. I'll just-"

"I love you." She said it simply and quietly, unconsciously clenching her fingers around the tiny golden compass in her hand. Killian stood still as a statue, his turn to be bereft of the power of speech. "I love you. I was scared and I pushed you away and then you were gone - just  _gone_."

Emma stood and walked around her desk toward him, her voice getting louder and more ragged with each step, the words tumbling over each other. "And then everything went right - Elsa and Belle and I, we stopped Neal and I got the promotion. But you were  _still gone_  and I should've been happy, but I  _couldn't_  be - not really - because I couldn't share it with  _you_. And then last night -"

She was right in front of him now, ignoring the stupefied look on his face, wanting to smack him as much to make sure he was really there as anything else. All the fear and anxiety of the last 20 hours ( _had it really been less than a day?_ ) suddenly coming out as anger.

"Last night everything went to  _hell-_ " she struck his shoulder with the flat of one hand, still clutching the compass in her other fist "-and I didn't know if you were alive or dead-"  _smack!_ "-and you didn't  _call-_ "  _smack!_  "-and don't you  _ever_ do that to me again!" The last phrase came out as a snarl and Emma stood panting, glaring up at Killian with eyes of fire.

He pulled her into a crushing embrace. Emma stiffened in his arms, still huffing, but didn't resist. He buried his face in her hair, closing his eyes and breathing in her scent. "I must be going mad," he murmured, then pulled back again, just far enough to look her in the eyes. He searched her face for a moment in disbelief, then broke into the brightest, goofiest grin Emma had ever seen on him, and she knew that he must have seen the love she felt shining back at him. Oh, it was mixed with anger and fear and relief and the dozen or so other emotions swirling through her, but the love was definitely there, clear as day.

He raised one hand to caress her face, catching a golden strand of her hair and idly sliding it through his fingers. " _You're_  mad." He chuckled. "And bloody brilliant and beautiful." He smiled softly at her, his eyes glowing with wonder. "And I love you, too. God, Emma I love you so much."

Though she couldn't have said who moved first, Emma's lips touched his, a tentative brush, then building into something sensual and intimate, brimming with promise and light. Emma twined her arms around his neck, smiling against his mouth as their bodies swayed together.

Killian broke the kiss first, eyes still closed, and leaned his forehead down to touch hers. "I was so afraid I'd never get to do that again. I'm so sorry, love. I never should have left, but I thought that was what you wanted. I was hoping you'd change your mind." He leaned back enough to look her in the eyes, and furrowed his brow. "But then you didn't knock. On the wall, I mean. I took that as a sign that you were done with me. And then that next morning, you just..." He shook his head. "You just seemed to want to tell me goodbye. To let us part on good terms. I mean, I did appreciate that. I don't think I'd have been able to survive seeing you every day, living right next to you, if we couldn't even talk to each other. But there you were, offering me the hand of friendship and bidding me adieu, when all I wanted was to pull you close and hold you until the world made sense again."

Emma raised her brows in disbelief. "Are you kidding me? I thought  _you_ didn't want  _me_  anymore. The way you looked right through me, and then walked away..." she shuddered at the recollection of his empty eyes. "And rightly so. I'd earned it."

Killian scowled at that, but before he could protest, Emma sighed and cupped his face with her hand pressing a silencing thumb to his lips. "You have  _nothing_  to be sorry for, do you hear me? I meant it that day, when I said I owed you an apology. I didn't listen to you. I shut you out and pushed you away. All that after basically trying to use you as a sex toy."

Killian raised a rakish eyebrow, nipping at Emma's thumb and making her laugh as she snatched it away. He curled his hands around the curve of her hips, pulling her closer. "Under more favorable circumstances, love, I'd be more than happy to be your sex toy." The low growl of his voice sent a wave of warmth through her body. Though she rolled her eyes at him, the way she instinctively wet her lips betrayed her.

"You're incorrigible," she declared. "And I really am sorry."

"You're forgiven," he replied. "And I really do love you."

Unable to contain her happiness, Emma claimed his lips again, pouring into the kiss every last drop of emotion that she'd been saving up since she'd last seen him. Her pain and fear, yes, but now her relief, her joy, and, most of all, her love.

_And maybe a little bit of desire._

_Okay, maybe a lot._

He wrapped one arm firmly around her waist, then slid his other palm slowly up her back, fingers splayed until they tangled into her hair. With every brush of their lips, every glide of their tongues, he pulled her closer, closer, as though any speck of empty space between them was intolerable.

When they finally broke for air, Emma took a step back and opened her hand, holding it out to display the compass necklace still in her palm. She batted her eyelashes coquettishly. "Help me put it on?"

Killian plucked the delicate chain from her hand with a roguish grin, and Emma turned so her back was to him. He gently swept her hair to the side, trailing his warm fingers across the back of her neck and leaving goosebumps in their wake. He stepped closer and Emma could feel the heat of his body even though they weren't touching yet. He leaned in, running his hands down her arms, and pressed a kiss to the little spot of flesh left exposed by Emma's neckline right where her neck met her shoulder. Emma squirmed in delight as his scruffy beard (slightly longer than usual, she noted) tickled against her skin. As he draped the necklace across her throat, his fingertips gently caressed her collarbone, making her shiver. Carefully, he fastened the clasp, then pressed one more hot, open-mouthed kiss to the nape of her neck. Emma moaned softly, letting her head tilt forward as her eyes closed.

"You, sir, are a menace," she purred.

He wrapped his arms around her, pressing himself flush against her back. "And you love me." She could feel the rumble of his voice in every part of her. He nuzzled the shell of her ear. "Say it again."

Emma smiled turning her head so their cheeks brushed. "I love you, Killian Jones."

As Emma turned back around to face him, the next thing she knew, Killian gripped her waist and lifted her off the ground, spinning them in a half-circle with a carefree laugh before setting her back down again. Emma giggled,  _actually giggled_ , as Killian very formally took her right hand in his, keeping his other hand on her waist. He began moving the two of them in a rhythmic pattern.

"What's this that we're doing now?" Emma laughed again as she stumbled over her own feet.

Killian arched an eyebrow at her. "It's called a waltz, love. Don't worry. I've got you." He winked and flashed a sultry grin.

"We're in my office," she replied, eyebrows raised.

"It's after hours," he countered with a shrug, then leaned in to whisper conspiratorially. "Didn't stop you from making out with me a minute ago, did it, darling?" He crinkled his nose mischievously. "Just go with it," he replied giving a suggestive pop to the final 't'.

Emma shook her head, as she relaxed into the movement allowing him to sweep her along.  _Smug bastard,_ she thought _, there's not even any-_

Before she could finish her thought, she realized Killian was humming, his lips pressed together, still smiling like an idiot. It only took a few bars for her to recognize the song he'd played for her the night they'd had their picnic during the blackout. Her smile faltered and blood rushed to her face as she remembered their  _other_  activities that evening. Wanton thoughts flitted into her mind, making her wonder what else might have happened if the damn fire alarm hadn't gone off.

Her gaze wandered down to his mouth, just in time to catch him grazing his teeth across his lower lip. She looked up into his eyes and found them impossibly darker, lids lowered slightly in an expression that might have looked lazy if not for the obvious want lurking in its depths.

Killian slowed their movement until they were simply swaying clutched tightly to each other like teenagers at a school dance. Emma closed her eyes and rested her head against his shoulder, sighing in contentment. Killian pressed a kiss to her forehead, and quietly sang one final chorus:

_I won't give up on us, even if the skies get rough,_

_I'm giving you all my love, I'm still looking up._

They stilled completely, so engrossed with each other the outside world might as well not have existed. Emma raised her head, threaded her fingers into his hair and kissed him as though his lips were her only source of oxygen.

She had no idea how long they stayed that way before a familiar and unwelcome voice from her doorway interrupted the moment.

"Well isn't that just  _adorable_ ," Neal sneered.

"The hell are you doing here, Cassidy?" Emma snarled, instinctively placing herself between Killian and Neal.

"I just came by to finish cleaning out my desk, thanks to you. Nice job throwing me under the bus with Mills. I honestly didn't think you had it in you. But don't worry, honey, I'll make sure you get what's coming to you for that little play."

Killian stepped around Emma toward Neal. "Actually," he interjected, stalking closer to Neal with a predatory grace, "I don't think you've quite gotten everything that you have coming to  _you_  just yet." Before Neal could react, Killian punched him squarely in the face.

"Fucking psycho!" Neal's hand shot to his nose, and Emma could see the blood dripping down behind his fingers. "This isn't over," he growled and stormed out of Emma's office.

Emma stood frozen in place for a split second, gaping at Killian as he rubbed his knuckles, his jaw still clenching in anger.  _That may have been the single hottest thing I've ever seen, and I'm not even gonna think about what that says about me._ A heady mixture of pride, gratitude, and, most of all, arousal for her pirate ( _and he has never seemed more like a pirate than right now_ ) flooded through her body.

When she spoke, her voice came out low and thick with desire. "Killian."

He looked up at her, brow furrowed. "My apologies, love, but that bloody git deserved it."  
"Killian," she repeated breathily. "Lock the door." She raised an eyebrow to mimic his signature lascivious smirk.

A feral grin crossed his features as he finally caught her intentions. He closed the door, twisting the deadbolt home with a  _click_ , then rounded on her. "Oh?" He pursed his lips suggestively, canting his head to the side. "Am I in trouble now, lass?"

He swaggered toward her, leading with his hips. Before he'd gone three steps, Emma closed the distance between them and pounced on him, feverishly capturing his lips. Killian's back hit the nearest wall, and he growled low in his throat as Emma's mouth moved away from his, her lips and tongue tracing the scruffy line of his jaw. She reached his ear and scraped the lobe between her teeth just hard enough to make him hiss. "What do you think, pirate?" she whispered.

She felt the vibration of his moan through her chest, and leaned back to look at him, keeping their hips pressed firmly together. He looked wrecked, hair mussed by her wandering fingers, eyes nearly black with lust, and she knew she must look just as far gone.

He studied her for two heartbeats, seeming to consider something, the only sound their heaving breaths. Then without warning he pushed off the wall, bowing his head to mouth "Hold on" against the pulse of her throat.

Killian cupped her ass with his hands and lifted her. Emma gasped, but took the cue, wrapping her legs around his waist ( _glad I wore a dress today!_ ) and locking her hands at the nape of his neck. Her lips found his again and she arched into him as he slowly walked the two of them over to her desk.

Emma felt herself jostle slightly. The swish and clatter of papers and office supplies being knocked to the floor registered somewhere in her hazy mind, but with the way Killian was sucking on her lower lip, she just couldn't bring herself to give a damn. As soon as he deposited her on the desktop with a soft thump, her fingers reached for the hem of his t-shirt, breaking their kiss to pull it up and over his head. She took a moment to take in the view, seeing for the first time the extent of his injuries. Besides the marks she'd seen earlier on his arms and face, Killian had a bruise the size of her palm on one shoulder, and the muscled planes of his chest and stomach were marred with smaller welts and scratches. Emma was jolted by the realization of just how close she'd come to losing him forever.

"Hey." He ducked his head into her line of sight to make her meet his eyes again. "You don't have to worry about me, love. I'm a survivor." He slid his hands up her thighs under her skirt, the contact with her bare skin scorching her. "As you can see, everything important is still in tact."

Emma rolled her eyes and smiled, leaning forward to kiss him.

_Those lips still seem to work._

_That tongue, too._

She reached for his belt buckle, but he pulled back from her. A pang of doubt shot through her for a split second, but his intentions were made clear when he moved a hand from her thigh to untie the belt of her dress, unwrapping the fabric from her body. He placed his hands on her waist then ran them up her ribs. His thumbs grazed the sides of her breasts as his hands continued up to her shoulders, caressing back down her arms and removing the last remnants of her dress in the process, leaving it to drape across the desk beneath her like a blanket.

His eyes roamed over her every curve and freckle, catching on the tiny golden compass around her neck, his expression awestruck. "I want to worship every glorious inch of your body, Swan, but to be perfectly honest, I don't think I have the patience to do that right now."

Emma laughed and took his hand in hers, guiding him to where she was aching for him, the wetness of her arousal evident through the thin cotton of her underwear. Killian inhaled sharply, his tongue darting to the side of his mouth as his fingers began to stroke her, making her hum with pleasure.

"As -  _mmmm_  - you can see -  _oh!_ \- I'm a bit impatient myself." Emma gasped as his hand found its way past the waistband of her underwear and into her slick bare flesh, his fingers dipping, teasing, coaxing.

Emma let her head drop back, bracing her hands against the desk to keep herself upright. His free hand moved from her hip, slowly gliding up her stomach, his thumb tracing idle circles as he went. He cupped her breast, testing its weight, squeezing gently. One hand worked the pebbled flesh of her nipple, while the fingers of the other curled inside her, hitting just the right spot ( _God, those hands are amazing!_ ), and she began to see stars. But, it wasn't enough. She needed all of him. Now.

She took a deep, shuddering breath and sat up straight again, taking hold of his wrists to still his ministrations. "Pants. Off," she commanded.

Killian hesitated, concern creeping into his lust-darkened eyes. "Emma, are you sure?"

She gave him her brightest smile and pulled him in for a quick, soft kiss. "I've never been more sure of anything." She replied, reveling in the joyful grin he offered her. "And I don't want to wait another minute."

He stepped back, hastily unbuckling his pants and sliding them down his legs along with his boxer briefs, pausing only to retrieve a small foil packet from his wallet.

As Emma slid her underwear off, she asked with a wry smile, "Do I want to know why you had that with you?"

"Ah, well…" Killian placed the packet in her open hand with an unabashed smirk. "I may have put that in my billfold right after our little late night picnic. Good form to be prepared and all that." He waggled his eyebrows at her. "Care to do the honors?"

Emma laughed and opened the packet. She relished his groan of pleasure as she sheathed him, giving him a few extra strokes with her hand for good measure. She scooted to the very edge of the desk, inviting him into the V of her thighs and running her palms up to rest on his chest.

"Now. Come here." The light in her eyes belying the serious tone of her voice.

"As you wish, love," he replied simply, then claimed her body in one smooth thrust.

They moved slowly at first, giving her body time to adjust to his size. Then their pace accelerated, becoming frenetic, desperate.  _Needy._

_Oh, yes. God, I just need more_.

_Mmmmmm….Yeah._

_Right there._

_Oh, fuck yes._

Killian's hand reached between them and rubbed his thumb hard against her sensitive nub. Seconds later, Emma had to bite down on his shoulder to stifle her cry of ecstasy as they tumbled over the edge together.

As they held each other, basking in the afterglow, their breathing finally slowed to normal. Killian gave her a slow, lazy kiss. "That was-"

"Amazing," Emma finished. "And definitely  _not_  a one-time thing."

"Thank heavens for  _that,_ " Killian chuckled. "What say we set ourselves back to rights and head home for another go?"

He nipped playfully at her chin, as she tossed her head back in a laugh. "Still in a hurry, are we?"

"Not at all, my love. We have all the time in the world. I merely intend to make the most of it," he replied with a wink.

Emma smiled and kissed him again before they broke apart and went about the mundane business of tidying up. Finally deeming themselves presentable again, Killian moved to the door to unfasten the deadbolt. Emma paused next to the section of wall where she'd pinned him not so long ago.

Killian's hand stilled on the door handle as he heard her tap the wood paneled wall three times with her knuckle. He looked up at her and was once again overwhelmed with the emotion he read in her eyes.

"Love you, Jones."

He took her in his arms, kissing her senseless for a few precious seconds, then reached a hand up and tapped the wall three times as well.

"Love you, Swan."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N (continued): I hope you all enjoyed reading this half as much as I enjoyed writing it! Special thanks to my wonderful betas/editors captainswannl29 and accio-ambition for kicking my ass to make this story better. I love you ladies!
> 
> As always, I'd love to hear what you thought about the story. Comment, Comment, Comment!


End file.
